Nights in Black Satin
by sheri17awhile
Summary: Dr. Rhyleigh Manning has her life in perfect order. As a free lance profiler for the CIA, she incorporates her PhD in criminal psychology with her inborn supernatural abilities as a Cherokee spiritualist. Her latest assignment - unraveling the mystery man who operates completely off the grid - becomes the deadliest game of cat and mouse she has ever encountered.
1. Chapter 1

**Nights in Black Satin**

Chapter 1

Toots was the only name I ever heard anyone call my very wise and extremely superstitious Cherokee grandmother. From the moment I was born, at her house, on her bed, until the day she passed from this life, she repeatedly told me and everyone else that I was gifted, talented, and most assuredly blessed.

Attempting to regain my focus on my current situation, I decided to stroll further down memory lane. Maybe it had simply been the power of suggestion, but I had embraced my status of being different, and many times throughout my life had reached inside myself to use those gifts. I personified them into a second person inhabiting my body; a spirit girl I relied on for guidance.

As a child, I never really fit in with the rest of the crowd, but when someone needed help finding a lost item, getting a classmate to confess a wrongdoing, or charming some member of the opposite sex into a relationship, I suddenly found myself with a new best friend. Both Toots and my inner companion would throw hissy fits at my allowing myself to be manipulated in that fashion.

"Child," Toots would warn, pointing her leathery brown finger in my face, "you must use your gifts for good cause, not to impress non-deserving leeches. If you're not careful, you could lose your blessing. Be wise in your choices."

My spirit girl would give a big, "Amen!"

My given name was Rhyleigh, a name that my mother secretly put on my birth certificate and didn't disclose until it was too late to change. My dad had been furious; Toots merely grunted and shook her head. Whenever we were alone, she called me by another name, a secret name only she and I knew about. It was a shortened form of "chameleon," one of my alleged gifts. That name, along with many of her other personal secrets, had been buried with her, but not before she had shared many of them with me. Her unshakable faith, and belief in the spirits and existence of otherworldly beings was instilled in my soul. I had no problem accepting her word that humans weren't the only ones inhabiting Mother Earth. I still hoped I would meet an angel someday.

Aside from supposedly being born with certain skills and talents, I had graduated magna cum laude in my class, getting my master's degree and doctorate in criminal psychology. I had worked hard to get where I was now, and had earned every promotion I had received. My record working with various government agencies around the world was perfect, one hundred percent successful, making me a much sought after agent, and allowing me to pick the assignments I wanted to tackle, rather than drooling after every bone tossed in my direction.

My colleagues, clients, and classmates respected my abilities and jumped at the chance to work with me. Truth be told, I preferred to dance solo, but right about now, I was glad my inner force was here keeping me company.

"_You're good at what you do."_ My spirit girl whispered the reassurance to me, but her voice was barely there.

"_Just because this guy is a total X-factor who stays off the grid and manages to keep every intelligence agency in the country on edge..." _My mental argument was cut off in mid-sentence_._

_"He's still just a man," _she stated adamantly_. "And they all have a weakness. You just need to find his_."

"One more?" the bartender, who wore a badge that read, 'Your secrets are safe with me,' offered, jarring me back to the here and now. "You got plenty of time to down at least another one before closing time."

It was now after midnight, and sitting here in this dimly lit bar, waiting for him - whoever he was- to arrive, had me feeling a complete lack of any supernatural attributes. Not that I hadn't done this exact same thing numerous times during my fifteen years working as a freelance profiler for the CIA, just that this time something was random, for lack of a better word. So, okay maybe my gift was lingering ghost-like in the background, but I would have preferred a much stronger presence. Something more like, say, a full on banshee.

"Sure, why not," I said, adding more warmth and friendliness to my voice than I actually felt. "This time, add a little more ice. I'm driving."

No one would ever accuse this guy of making watered down drinks – not that there was actually a way to water down a Manhattan, but I'd been watching him concoct any number of drinks during the past few hours, and he was plenty generous with the booze. I'd bet my next paycheck that he did, in fact, hear a lot more confessions than the local priest.

As my glass of amber stamina slid in front of me, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand to attention.

_He_ had finally arrived.

"Thanks, you two," I whispered to my grandmother's spirit and my spirit girl, who was now flexing her muscles, back in full force and ready for action.

He had pulled out the barstool and was sitting down, leaving one chair vacant between us, before I realized he had done the Grasshopper-on-rice-paper across the room. He moved like a cat silently advancing on his prey, every movement calculated for precision, and though beautifully hypnotic to look at, just like his animal counterpart, he, too, was extremely lethal and savage. Of that, I was certain. The fact that he was dressed in black from neck to toe would have set the illusion in stone had it not been for his honey colored hair and my preconceived notion that, for some unknown reason, panthers had to have emerald green eyes. His were pools of liquid gold. Pools that some poor, unsuspecting sucker could easily, albeit happily, drown in.

"What's your pleasure?" The Protector of Secrets asked him cordially.

The reason I was here cocked his head to the side and unleashed his smoldering gaze on me.

"Does he make a good Manhattan?"

His voice was ear candy: The timber and resonance crystal-clear, yet soft and mellow, lower than normal masculine midrange, and actually made your ears feel as if they had just been kissed. My imagination flashed on what he would sound like after sex, or first thing after waking up in the morning. Mentally shaking myself back to the present, I let my dove grays meet his Midas eyes full force.

"He makes a perfect Manhattan," I answered, allowing my mouth only the smallest hint of a smile. "And I'm a perfectionist."

"I was hoping for that," he responded, but to which comment? I wasn't sure. Turning back to face the barkeep, he added, "One of your perfect Manhattans, then."

He settled into the barrel-shaped barstool and gave me an over-the-shoulder glance. A chill ran down my spine, causing me to sit up even straighter and get a tighter grasp on my drink. Something was definitely different about him. Nothing like any vibe I had ever felt before. No wonder the CIA was more than a little interested in finding out more about this nameless male. All my senses told me that he wasn't exactly evil, but cautioned me to be on high alert. He was decidedly dangerous. And he looked absolutely delicious.

"Would you join me in moving to a booth?" he asked, as his drink was placed in front of him. "I really don't like sitting at the bar."

"I prefer having my back to the wall, myself," I said, sliding off the barstool and gathering my purse on my arm. "Do you see one you particularly like?"

"The one in the corner suits my personality." His answer was spoken in a tone that, had it been overheard, would have made the eavesdropper believe we were co-conspirators plotting some diabolical deed rather than two strangers hooking up for an innocent let's-get-to-know-each-other-somewhere-a-little-mo re-private drink.

I felt his hand gently brush across my lower back as we walked across the room. Although his touch had been light as a feather, the jolt of pure electricity it sent through me nearly produced an audible crackle. A quick peek over my shoulder confirmed he had felt it, too. His overall facial expression hadn't registered anything out of the ordinary, but his eyes told me he hadn't expected the current that flowed from him to me and back again.

"Is this better?" I asked, as I slid into the left side of the booth.

Stopping about a third of the way around, I was forcing him to sit either right next to me on my left or at a safer distance away from me on my right.

"Much better," he replied softly, countering my position by choosing to sit on my right.

He removed the black leather bag that hung on his shoulder and set it on the seat of the booth to his left, between us; I sat my purse on my left, away from him, making a mental note that he was most likely ambidextrous, as was I. No home court advantage. Usually, I made sure my Walther PK was safely concealed within reach, in my purse, on my right, allowing me to easily slip my hand around the handle and pull the trigger. For some completely misguided reason, I was throwing caution to the wind tonight. Truth was, I had the unnerving gut feeling that my handy-dandy may as well have been a cap gun if I had to actually pull it on this guy. He was definitely more the sling-shot-and-five stones type.

"This isn't quite what I pictured a meeting with the CIA would be like," he started the conversation, not bothering with introductions of any sort.

"Meetings come in all shapes and sizes," I said, coming off a little more flippant than I'd intended. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"No, not at all. This is actually quite pleasant," he responded, glancing around the room. "It's just that I expected a more formal setting."

"There's really no need to have a friendly chat at headquarters." This time I made sure my warm and friendly was in place, even if we didn't know each other's names.

"So we're just having a friendly chat, then?" He sounded amused. "I'm a little disappointed. I expected a full scale interrogation, actually."

"Interrogation?" I questioned. "That sounds ominous. A little too KGB, don't you think?"

"The CIA has a reputation of its own," he scoffed. "Couple that with the fact that they – or some government agency – have been monitoring my every move and making diligent attempts to obtain any information they can about me, I think an in depth interrogation is exactly what they'd require."

"My current employer is very interested in you. It seems you recently appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly you're everywhere. You're not in any data base of any country on earth. They're really not sure what to make of you; how you keep yourself invisible; what your agenda might be. We actually haven't ruled out extraterrestrial, either. They're just a bit nervous about the whole situation, and now that I've met you, I get it. I really do."

"I make you nervous?" He was clearly amused. "I've been racking my brain since this meeting was arranged, trying to figure out why they sent their best agent to test the waters, so to speak. What if I told you that you make me nervous?"

"I'd say you were insulting my intelligence." Deciding to toy with him, I posed, "What if I told you I'm really just a rookie? Someone that could easily be written off as collateral damage, if need be, so you have no reason whatsoever to be nervous?"

"You would then be insulting my intelligence," he responded, emphasizing the word "my."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but at this point, you and I are just having a little heart to heart and getting to know each other." I flashed what I had been told was a "bedroom smile" at him.

"I have a feeling that you are never disappointing," he whispered, one-upping me by adding a smile that could have Mother Theresa dropping her panties.

"I don't get many complaints." My response sounded confident without being boastful.

"My money says you don't get any," he teased.

For a few moments, we sat silently sipping our drinks, regrouping for round two. So far, he was in the lead, a situation I planned to rectify quickly. Before I could steer the conversation in the direction I wanted it to go, he leaned toward me and took my hand in his.

"There's something I'd really like to show you." Again his voice was music; a song rather than mere spoken words. "Are you confident enough to go somewhere with me?"

"_Hell no!"_ Spirit Girl screamed at me. "_Don't even think about it!"_

"Confidence doesn't have anything to do with my leaving here and going somewhere with you," I replied tartly, then immediately switched to being flirtatious. "More like good sense, or the lack of it. Besides, you just got here, and we haven't finished our drinks."

"Very well," he agreed. "So, more polite conversation, or do we begin our friendly game of cat and mouse?"

"Cat and mouse? How about twenty questions?" I asked, going along with his very dry humor. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue, and yours?" he responded without hesitation.

"Pink." My response was just as quick. "And what is..."

"My turn," he said, cutting me off. "You're Native American, aren't you?"

"Was it the skin tone, the high cheek bones, or the black hair that tipped you off?" I asked sarcastically, given that I had a fair complexion, blonde hair, and no prominent facial features.

Why on earth would he have asked that, I wondered, getting my defenses back in place.

"Well, you got me there," he said with a chuckle, the sound more akin to a symphony than laughter. "I'm just really good at reading people, that's all. It was a wild guess, but an accurate one, am I right?"

"Actually, yes, you are. Care to guess what tribe?" I taunted him.

"I seem to remember there were five tribes described as civilized: Chickasaw, Choctaw, Cherokee, Seminole, and Cree." He stared at my face, not blinking for several seconds before pursing his lips, rolling his eyes, and finally declaring, "Cherokee, with a trace of Choctaw on your mother's side."

This was so not funny. How could he possibly know that? Even the CIA didn't know that, and they knew everything. Again, I did a quick copy-and-paste Mona Lisa.

"Very good," I complimented him. "But, my entire Indian heritage is from my mother's side. My father is full blood….."

"Italian," he cut me off. "Sicilian, to be precise."

The game was now freaking me out but good. My inner spirit-girl was working overtime trying to solve the mystery that sat next to me. Good thing she was getting her focus, because I was unraveling thread by thread.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to come across like some charlatan from a circus," he apologized, placing my hand between both of his. "Like I said, I can usually read people pretty well. It's sort of a hobby of mine."

"Getting into people's heads is your hobby?" I repeated, my words sounding too much like an accusation. "That's different. I'm into stamp collecting, myself."

"I heartily doubt that," he said skeptically. "Much too tame for you. And I don't get into people's heads; I just sort of read them like their life is part of a book."

"So stay out of my head and make my chapter a mystery," I snapped back at him.

"I really am sorry. I've offended you, and I never meant to do that," he whispered, as he tightened his grip on my hand.

Again, the lightning bolt hit both of us, only this time I gasped involuntarily at the sensation while his face reflected his disbelief at what had just happened. He quickly pulled his hand away and placed it on his lap. He sat completely still for a few moments before he exhaled and spoke again.

"There really is something I need to show you," he began. "Now, I'm afraid I've made you even more skeptical of me and my possible agenda, as you said, but please, trust me. I promise to be on best behavior. No more games. Just please, come with me."

His eyes told me he was sincere, and for some insane reason, I did actually trust him. Stepping completely out of character, I ventured forward.

"It's quite late already and my second wind hasn't kicked in yet. I am enjoying your company, though, and if you have to go somewhere, I guess I could tag along. After all, my employer does want me to get to know you. Of course, they're expecting a full report in the morning."

I added the last bit as a warning that someone would come looking for me if I hadn't checked in by early tomorrow. And they knew who I was with.

"Fine. I promise to make sure they get their money's worth," he said with a chuckle.

_"__Idiot,"_ my inner companion hissed, as I figuratively put my hand across her mouth.

He quickly slid out of the booth, reached into his satchel, and took out a handful of cash. After laying a fifty-dollar bill on the table, he nodded at the bartender, took my elbow, and guided me out the door. Once we were outside, he turned to face me.

"It would be better if you rode with me in my car. The road is dark and winding, and you could easily get lost, with or without GPS," he explained.

_"__Hello!"_ Spirit Girl called, waving her arms in front of my face.

I clutched my purse against my ribs, feeling the butt of my Walther for reassurance, and told her to mind her own business.

"I really don't like the idea of leaving my car parked here for very long," I hedged. "My leaving with you might be a neon sign to a car thief."

"It's Friday night," he reminded me. "How many singles will become couples and leave together at closing? There are sure to be a few vehicles left unattended in the parking lot. Besides, this is a respectable neighborhood, is it not? Isn't that why we met here? Because it's safe?"

I rolled my eyes in defeat and walked beside him to his car.

A Bentley.

Of course.

A minute later, we were cruising along the Southern California coast, heading north. A Fourplay CD was playing softly in the background, something about making love and satin sheets. About the time I was imagining myself doing the dirty with Mr. Mystery Man, he reached over, again taking my hand in his, this time brushing the back of it across his lips before giving it a gentle kiss. The gesture in itself was sweet and seemingly innocent, yet at the same time seductive and sexy as hell. Yes, I could easily imagine being between the sheets with this man.

The next hundred miles passed quickly and relatively quietly, with a lot of hand squeezing and very little talk. We were establishing a sort of unspoken communication: feelings and thoughts being transmitted through an electric current. As long as he held my hand, there was no need for spoken words.

_Did he have the same gifts I had? _

"We're both professionals," he said suddenly, as if he had just read my mind. "Both the best at what we do. Your employer may think me interesting, but I find you absolutely fascinating. I'm sensing some hidden talents. Supernatural abilities."

Willing my own hand to be steady, I reached into my purse and took a pre-rolled out of my case. Before I could ask if he minded my smoking in his car, a lighter was in front of my face, ready to ignite the business end of the steady-your-nerves I really wanted to smoke.

"You're not a regular herb smoker," his statement doubled as a question.

In all honesty, I did only smoke when I needed to get my head on straight. Like now, for example. Herbs had been an important facet of developing my gifts. According to Toots, all vegetation had been given to us by the Supreme Being; we just needed to use them properly to get the full benefit, and to take care not to misuse what He had intended for our well-being. Piute was one of the plants she swore by.

"I enjoy a good smoke every now and then, myself," he stated matter of fact, as he accepted the joint I offered him. "Good herb, a Cuban cigar, or a pipe of rich Turkish tobacco clears my head so I can get my focus back." He took a deep drag, held it for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "Have you ever tried smoking for that purpose?"

He was teasing me now, I was sure of it. I was also positive he was reading my book again, and my facial expression must have shown it.

"I'm sorry. I'm being a bit of a show-off," he apologized. "You're on the right track with the mind reading or getting into people's heads. My actual talent is in tracking, I guess you might call it. Like you, I can find someone no matter how hard they might try to hide, by using an ability I was given at my rebirth."

"Rebirth?" I echoed. "You mean like, born again?"

"That term typically refers to having a religious or evangelical experience, does it not?" He questioned.  
"Usually, yes." I confirmed, studying his face. "Is that what you're talking about?"

I had met several people, especially tribal elders, who have had conversations with the spirits, and had been virtually turned one-eighty or given special abilities because of it. Nothing too special here, then. At least, nothing out of the sort-of-ordinary-for-a-gifted-person.

"So, you had a spiritual encounter that resulted in your having a supernatural ability?" I asked for clarification.

"No, not exactly," he said, hesitantly. "I wouldn't label it as 'spiritual' really. But, we're nearly here, and I'll be happy to explain everything to you once we arrive."

I suddenly realized I hadn't been paying any attention to the landmarks or details about the drive since shortly after we left. I had no idea how long or how far we had been driving. Wonderful.

_"__It's a little late to worry about that now that we're somewhere in the middle of the Blair Witch Project,"_ Spirit Girl huffed in her I-told-you-so tone of voice, stifling a yawn.

"_That current flowing between him and me kind of lulled you to sleep, as well,"_ I mentally scolded her. "_We have to get back on our game. Now!"_

Watching the odometer, I noted we had driven six-point-five miles when we came to a set of massive wrought iron gates. He pushed a button on the Bentley's console causing the gates to slowly slide open. We proceeded forward down a tree-lined, brick driveway for another half-mile. One final bend in the road, and we pulled up in front of a huge mansion constructed out of rock and glass.

"Where are we?" I asked, trying desperately to keep my voice casual. "What is this place?"

We sat in silence, having a stare-down with each other for what seemed like an eternity. I had just about convinced myself that he could go on without blinking for days on end, when he decided to let me win. He slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"We're at my home," he whispered, opening his eyes, now glowing in an otherworldly shade of vivid turquoise.

"Who. And. What. Are. You?" Spirit Girl and I demanded in unison.

"James," he said. "I am a vampire. And I've been waiting a millennia to meet you, Cam."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For once in my life, I was speechless. Tongue-tied. And Dr. Rhyleigh Manning was never at a loss for words, ever. But at this moment, I couldn't seem to conjure up a single coherent thought, let alone put one into words - not in any of the nine languages I spoke fluently.

After opening and closing my mouth several times, and no doubt looking like I was attempting to imitate a fish, I decided to just exhale and wait for him to speak again.

"We should get you inside," James said calmly, slipping his arm around my waist before I became a puddle on the driveway. The hint of electrical current hummed between us. "You look a bit pale. Maybe a brandy would help bring back your color."

My color was the least of my worries at the moment, but getting inside before my knees buckled and my legs gave out completely was definitely good advice. I had been in several degrees of life threatening situations during my career, and had seen and heard everything there was to see and hear - or so I thought, but James, this man.. being.. _vampire_ standing beside me had just topped it all.

Still not trusting my brain to properly engage my mouth, I simply nodded in the affirmative.

"_We're going in there? With him?"_ Spirit Girl hissed at me.

There was a small degree of comfort in knowing she was recovering from the shock and could speak to me.

_"We certainly can't stand out here all night_," I hissed right back at her, happy to realize I was able to respond, even if it was only mentally.

James had unlocked the massive front door and was ushering me into the entry hall. The interior was modern, as the exterior had suggested. In the great room just beyond the entry, I could see the floors, walls, and ceilings were white, the furniture was upholstered in black; the walls were adorned with black and white oil paintings mounted in shiny black frames, wrought iron decorative pieces, and massive gilt-framed mirrors. It was a conundrum of appearing pristine and cold as a model home would, yet the fabrics and glowing embers in the fireplace were inviting and homey. You could kick off your shoes and get cozy on the incredibly gigantic wrap-around sofa, while at the same time feeling as though you should be sitting up straight and proper.

"Make yourself at home," James offered cordially, nodding toward the sofa. "I'll pour us a cognac."

He disappeared into what appeared to be a billiard room. Obviously it also housed a bar. Not being able to suppress the need to take a peek, I followed him instead. The room was enormous. A regulation billiard table with a tiffany lamp hanging over it was in the center of the room. Across the entire far glass wall, was a beautifully hand-carved bar, with eight bar stools neatly tucked under the black marble counter top. The bottles of liquor and the glasses were evidently housed on shelves under the bar, allowing those who occupied the bar stools to get the full view of whatever was on the other side of the glass wall.

"The view from the bar is one of my favorites in the entire house," James said as he noticed me standing there gawking. "Do you like the ocean?"

"Yes, I love the beach," I responded, noting that he had once again answered my unasked question.

"We're on a cliff here. My private beach is a short hike down a well-hidden pathway. Perhaps we can venture down there when the sun comes up."

"Sounds lovely, but I'm not so sure I'll still be here when the sun comes up," I replied coyly. "Duty calls, and all that jazz."

"Since you're riding with me, I'd say the likelihood of your being here at sunrise is quite promising. And if things progress according to schedule, we'll also be enjoying the sunset together on my deck."

His voice wasn't threatening, per se, but there was a note of something ominous lingering there. The choice of words he had used should have scared the shit out of me: things progressing on schedule. What things? And who's schedule? It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was in complete control here, and any protests on my part would fall on unsympathetic, if not deaf ears. Everything I'd ever been taught was telling me I should be running for the hills, but for some reason, fear wasn't even in the equation. The only emotion I felt was desire. A burning desire to know every detail about this mysterious being.

Walking past me, his arm brushed against mine. That now familiar jolt of electricity snapped me out of my reverie, and I followed him back into the great room. After setting our drinks on the coffee table, he sat down and patted the space next to him, beckoning me to join him. I sat down, leaving no more than a few inches between us.

"I assume you have a few questions to ask me," he started the conversation. "Please, feel free to ask anything. I promise not to be offended."

"Offended?" I echoed. "What could I ask that might be offensive you?"

"My age, possibly. I did indicate I'd waited a very long time to meet you," he suggested.

"Well, that was quite a revelation," I agreed. "Actually, the vampire part was a lot more mind blowing. If I accept that part of it, the age thing just sort of falls into place. Doesn't it?"

"And do you accept that part? That I am really a vampire?" he questioned, staring so deeply into my eyes I nearly felt him looking back at himself from inside my head.

"Yes. I do believe that part," I replied without giving it another thought. "I've been raised to believe in the existence of spirits and otherworldly beings. Angels and demons. So why not vampires? Probably werewolves, too. Not too sure about zombies."

"My dear doctor, this isn't Hollywood," he scolded gently but sternly. "There are creatures, or beings as you sweetly put it, inhabiting the earth along with humans, but in all my years I've never run across a zombie."

"And you have a werewolf?" I held my breath in anticipation of his unexpected answer to my smart-ass comment.

"Not often, but it has happened." His eyes began to glow softly. I wondered if it was the memory of the encounter that caused the turquoise light, and gasped audibly. "Not in the United States," he added quickly, making an effort to reassure me.

"I suppose that vampires igniting in the sunshine must also be Hollywood, given that you want to stroll on the beach during the daylight."

"Books and movies both distort our lifestyle and our weaknesses. They paint us as bloodthirsty demons, preying on everything with a jugular vein." He paused for a moment, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth left by the words he had spoken. "We're not susceptible to indirect sunlight, silver bullets, or crosses. I've spent many Easters and Christmas Eves in church. I eat regular food and drink whatever pleases me, although yes, I do have to consume blood in order to exist, but it hasn't come from the neck of some living creature for centuries. I sleep. In a bed - not a coffin. I am very strong and can move extremely fast. I can dematerialize and reappear some distance away. I'm learning to control the elements and most other beings, but you will be my teacher in refining my talent in that area. My skin feels like that of a human, and although it is nearly impenetrable, I can only be in direct sunshine for a limited time. Thankfully, I heal very quickly. Yes, I can get into your head to read your thoughts, see your memories, and plant a suggestion. And no... I most assuredly do not sparkle."

"Tell me about your eyes," I whispered. "They're beautiful. I thought the gold was hypnotic, but that turquoise glow... incredible."

"As a child I had blue eyes, much the same color as when they glow. After I was changed, my eyes became the golden color when I was in my human persona, and took on the blue glow when I was in vampire mode." He gave me a sideways glance before continuing. "I guess the more the vampire James takes over, the brighter and more vivid the glow. When I'm concentrating on posing as a human, they're gold."

"You said you inherited certain gifts when you had your rebirth. How did you became a vampire? Another vampire bit you, right?" I struggled to get a handle on what he had told me.

"Maybe I should start from the beginning. Or let me rephrase that - let me tell you about my beginning. I was born human, just as you were. A human with certain gifts. In those days, people were a lot less tolerant of someone who wasn't completely normal like everyone else. Magicians and sorcerers were accepted and feared, of course, but you had to be very careful in not getting yourself labeled a heretic or witch and put to death before you could establish yourself as powerful enough to be feared and left alone."

"Luckily, I was apprenticed to a powerful wizard early on," he continued. "My mother and father were frightened of me and my abilities to the point where they never scolded me, even when I deserved it. I was left to my own devices, and treated much like a leper or any other outcast. They fed and clothed me, but kept their distance. When a man showed up on our doorstep inquiring about me, they gladly gave me into his care, thankful to be rid of their abomination. I never saw them again after that day."

"How very sad for you," I sighed. "How old were you?"

"It was just after my tenth birthday," he answered from long ago and far away. "I was both thrilled at the prospect of being with someone who understood my abilities and terrified of what he might do to me because of them. On his death bed many years later, he confided that he felt the same way I had that day. He had been compelled to find me, yet afraid to do so at the same time."

"So he mentored you," I stated the question as fact. "Was he kind?"

"Very kind. I became the son he never had, and he became the father I loved and cherished. Leelan had the wealth of a king, magical powers beyond belief, and he shared all that he had with me. Instead of living life as a fisherman's son, I grew up in a palace, with all the finest money could buy. From that first day forward, I always had the very best of everything. He taught me to use my abilities to the fullest. Of course, when he arranged for me to be changed, I hated him. Couldn't understand how or why he could do such a heinous thing. It took years before I gave him the chance to explain his actions and to ultimately forgive him for them."

"He had you turned into a vampire?" I asked incredulously.

"For my own protection and well being," he responded, the fond sentiment clearly showing in his voice. "It was the most humane thing he could have done for me. He was very old and growing weak. He knew that upon his death I would become the target of the local magistrate. Together, we were untouchable; alone, I was much more vulnerable. I argued that I could defend myself and take care of both of us; that my powers had become as strong as his, and no one could stand against us. In fact, I begged him to let me change him so that we could both be immortal, but he refused. He said I had a destiny to fulfill; that someone was waiting for me to come into her life. Someone much like myself - gifted and possessing supernatural abilities. He told me he wasn't sure how long I would have to wait, but that I would know when the time had come, and then I must go find her. Of course, I was skeptical, and after several hundred years had passed without any sign of her coming, I didn't believe she ever would."

"About the time the memory of his prophecy had completely faded away, it happened. I knew in my very soul she was waiting for me. The draw was unmistakable, pulling me to her like a hand gripping me tightly. The first time I saw her, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt - Leelan had been exact in his premonition. It was her. My destined mate. My chosen one."

Being completely mesmerized by his story, I sat there in silence. Something in his voice told me his tale of promised love hadn't ended badly. He did find her and they had their happily-ever-after.

"So you brought me here to meet her. That's what you wanted me to come here for," I stated what seemed to be the obvious. "Will she be joining us? Is she a vampire, too?"

He took both my hands in his and turned to face me. His eyes betrayed he was in full James the Vampire mode.

"What did I say to you when you asked me who and what I was? Do you remember?" he asked softly.

"You said your name was James and that you were a vampire. Then you said that you had..." I abruptly stopped talking. The initial shock was gone and it was all coming back to me, clear as a bell in my head. "You knew my secret name. Only Toots and I knew about that name. The only person on this earth that ever called me that was my grandmother. And only when we were alone."

"Yes, it was her pet name for you. I thought it cruel that she used a nickname that was a shortened version of 'cambion,' but she had actually based the name on 'chameleon.' Thank you for clearing that up."

"Wait a minute," I stuttered. "You thought she named me after a half-human half-demon? And what do you mean, I cleared it up for you? When did I do that? In fact, how did you know about the name in the first place?"

Spirit Girl was in full headdress, tomahawk in hand, doing the war dance, and I was about to smear on the paint and join her. Okay, he had explained his background, somewhat, but where the hell did I fit into the grand scheme of things?

"Toots was a very special person, with extraordinary gifts. She recognized those same abilities in you the moment you were born. Her talent as a teacher and her ability to connect with the otherworldly element is legendary in our world. As I told you, the draw I felt to unite with my destined mate brought me across the globe. When I arrived, Toots knew who I was and why I was there, without a word being spoken between us; she had been waiting for me. Imagine my shock at finding my chosen one was a baby. She found that quite amusing, by the way."

"A vampire travels around the world and shows up on her doorstep claiming her newborn granddaughter is his chosen one, and she found it amusing?" My tone betrayed the doubt I was feeling.

"Perhaps it was the look on my face when she introduced us to each other that made her laugh. I'm sure I looked a bit taken back," he said, smiling at the memory. "You weren't at all what I had been expecting."

"So you want me to believe that for my entire life she knew this day would eventually happen, and yet she never mentioned a single word about it to me? Sorry, I just don't, can't buy that. She shared all her secrets with me. Why would she keep one this monumental to herself? She wouldn't. She would have told me to be on the lookout for someone at least. And if she really believed your story, she would have prepared me specifically for your arrival."

"I agree wholeheartedly, but for whatever reason, she chose not to. I was convinced that when you two were alone at the kitchen table, the evening she passed, she would finally reveal your true destiny. She came very close. Do you remember your conversation over a cup of chicory?"

"I remember every word she said to me that night. She told me to be proud of my heritage, to use my gifts only as they were intended to be used, and to be extremely cautious with my heart. She said my grandfather was waiting for her and she was looking forward to spending eternity with him." The memory of our final conversation came flooding back, the water spilling over my eyelids and down my cheeks. "She assured me someone special was out there for me, that I would have a long and happy earthly life with him, and then we, too, would share our forever together. She said, _'God created a perfect mate for every one; you just have to believe that the one meant for you will come into your life at just the right time_.' Never did she even hint that she knew who mine was and that he had already come along."

I was listening to what I was saying, but something inside me was doing the back-step shuffle. The man sitting next to me was very sincere in what he was saying. He knew too damn much, too many details not to have some knowledge of me and my family. But by believing any part of what he said, I felt it was only logical to believe all of what he said. Did I, or more to the point, could I do that? My emotions were going sideways. Was I more confused, excited, or furious at the chain of events happening before my eyes?

"_Did you know about this?"_ I accused my spirit guide, hoping for some form of clarification. "_How could you have kept this from me? How is that even possible?"_

_"No one defied Toots," _she admitted_. "I was sworn to secrecy the day he came. Actually, I was skeptical myself, and since the subject never came up again, I forgot about it. I guess that's why you never found out until right this very minute. Sorry."_

"Sorry doesn't help," I muttered under my breath.

"Excuse me?" James inquired politely, though I wondered whether he had been part of the mental exchange.

"_He can't hear me_," Spirit Girl quickly interjected. "_Our convo is safe. Promise_."

"Would you like me to refresh your drink, or maybe get you a glass of water or a cup of tea?" James offered. "I understand this is a lot to digest on such short notice. I had hoped Toots would reverse her gag order, and would have told you, herself, like Leelan had with me. It would have made everything so much easier for you. I've had twelve hundred years to come to terms with it all."

"Twelve hundred? You're twelve hundred years old?" I questioned, scrutinizing his face. "You're certainly well preserved, I'll give you that."

"Actually, I'm thirteen-hundred-forty years old. Leelan shared this revelation with me on what would have been my hundredth human birthday. I was reborn at age forty, and will remain in exactly this same state until I cease to exist."

"I think I'll take you up on your offer: a cup of tea with a shot of whiskey would be really nice about now," I said, leaning back against the push pillows on the sofa as James disappeared into the kitchen.

Closing my eyes, I rewound the movie of my life. Toots had prepared me to deal with just about everything - every facet of what could possibly happen during the trip from point A to point B. I knew spells for this and remedies for that; I could "see" things. In fact, having visions of what had taken place at a crime scene was my biggest asset in working as a profiler. I could control the elements, to a degree. Need a little wind storm? A small magnitude earthquake? No problem. But to teach someone else how was quite something else. For me, it had become automatic.

And now, I had just been handed a bomb on a silver platter. On the one hand, having a super-powered vampire as an ally could certainly be useful. On the same hand, the fact that the six-foot-six, perfect bodied, glowing eyed, golden-haired vampire was drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as hell didn't hurt. Add his being wealthy as Warren Buffett and already knowing about my supernatural side to the equation and the whole situation immediately jumped to a whole new level of perspective.

Then on the other hand….

I thought for a moment and came up blank. Exactly what, if anything at all, was on the other hand? Maybe the part about being destined for each other put me off just a little bit, but in the world my grandmother said I belonged in, it would make sense that your mate - could I think of him in that context? - should be your equal or direct counterpart. It would be logical that whoever had doled out our gifts in the first place would also prearrange for us to have someone who would be a match, in every sense of the word. I could certainly do a lot worse than spending the rest of my life with James.

"_You have done worse_," Spirit Girl reminded me. "_He's a fox. A very sexy, rich fox. We could seriously get used to him and his lifestyle. Ser-i-ous-ly."_

"_Ya think?"_ I responded sarcastically, before sharing a mental giggle with her.

James set my cup of tea and his refilled glass of cognac in front of us, then sat down next to me so that our bodies were touching.

"So you've been thinking," he said, turning sideways to face me. "Your smile tells me you are considering accepting me." He took my hands in his, brought them to his lips, and kissed the backs of them gently, tenderly. "I have to admit, waiting for you to grow up was the longest thirty-two years of my existence. Thirty-two years of watching you, unable to be part of your life. More than once I was tempted to cause harm to a suitor of yours, and numerous times I found myself in a jealous rage, but now that you are finally here, it was worth every century, every day, every second I had to wait."

He pulled me into an embrace and kissed me like I'd never in my entire life been kissed before. The strange electric current that had danced between us was now drawing us together, binding us. James stood, took my hand, and pulled me gently to my feet. He wrapped me in his arms and held me tightly. Every facet of my being responded in a way it had never done with any man before. I felt myself melting into him - mind, body, and soul.

"Cam, my love, my destiny," he whispered. "It's time."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I'm not exactly sure what happened next, or why it happened. Maybe it was due to being the wee hours of the morning, and that I was tired after the extremely long day. Possibly because I'd had too much to drink and not enough to eat. More likely it was having been hit with data overload.

It couldn't possibly have had anything to do with James saying, "It's time."

Before I could scarcely imagine what it was time for - and my imagination immediately flashed on both of us being naked and sweaty - I lost consciousness. Thankfully, I daintily melted right out of his arms rather than hitting the floor with a thud.

What in the world had possessed me to faint like some candy-assed nancy? I hadn't had a string of lovers, but I certainly wasn't a virgin. And I didn't shy away from going for a hot fuck if the guy turned me on and the timing was right. James was extremely attractive - sexy as hell, and I was already having fantasies about him in bed. So why, when it came to actually doing the dirty, did I completely freak.

"_Because, with him it's hella more than just sex_," Spirit Girl reminded me. "_And you know good and well what I'm talking about."_

The room began to spin as my eyes tried to focus.

"Cam, my dear, are you alright?" James had scooped me off the floor, laid me on the couch, and was hovering over me like a nurse. "Your pulse is racing. I'm going to get you some water. Please, stay lying down. Don't try to move. I'll be right back."

Five seconds later, he had set a glass of water on the coffee table and was propping me up on pillows.

"I feel like a complete idiot," I mumbled. "Believe me, I'm not the damsel in distress type - I never faint. That's the first time in my whole life. Mad scary."

"Frightening for me, as well. Just when I thought... well, never mind. We'll save that for another time," James said, regret evident in his voice. "Perhaps I should make us something to eat. Stay put."

Once again, he disappeared in a blur and returned seconds later with a platter of fruit, melon, and cheese.

"Something light but full of sugar and protein," he pointed out. "You should be back to normal very soon."

"Thank you," I said, sitting up and popping a chunk of honeydew into my mouth. "My favorite... but then, you already knew that, right? You already know everything about me."

"No, not everything," he said, cocking his head to the side and flashing that panty-dropping smile. "I have made it a point to find out your likes and dislikes as far as food and drink, but no, I don't know nearly enough about you. As I said, I've only been allowed observed you from a distance. Toots had very strict terms and conditions regarding me and you."

"But you got into my head. Read my memories. I'd say that means you know me pretty damn well," I reminded him.

"I can only tap into your current thoughts if I'm relatively close in proximity. When you were thinking about the name Toots gave you, I was able to glean the background and basis she used. That's why I said you cleared up the confusion for me," he explained.

"But you hadn't even arrived yet," I started to argue.

"I was waiting outside for the right moment to make my entrance. You were deep in thought, looking back at your life. It was more beneficial for me to gather all I could from your thoughts."

"So you saw my memories only because they were my current thoughts?" I asked, somewhat puzzled at the concept.

"Essentially, yes. I still have to ask if I want answers to some of the questions I have for you. I can only pull answers out of your mind if you happen to be thinking about them at that time."

"What questions do you want to ask me?" I ventured cautiously.

"Your name, Rhyleigh. I've heard the name for males, spelled differently, but never for a female. Is it a family name?" he inquired.

"Yes, R-i-l-e-y is usually a man's name. I was named after my mother's brother, who was killed in Viet Nam. She tweeked the spelling to make it more feminine," I told him. "I like it. It's quite amusing to watch someone's facial expression, when they finally meet me and realize I'm not a man. I'm surprised you didn't know that. I guess I don't think about my real name much. What else would you like to know?"

"Serious relationships?" he asked like he didn't really want to know.

"You've been in my head. What do you think? Real love or infatuation? Maybe just pure lust," I teased. "I don't have a current boyfriend, if that's what you're asking. I haven't been thinking about someone, so you can't know for sure - right? Interesting. What about you?"

"I told you I've been waiting for my chosen mate," he said, as if that answered the question.

"And you've been celibate while you were waiting? You're a thousand year old virgin?" I asked incredulously, and had to bite my lip to keep from giggling at the thought.

"Of course not," he responded indignantly. "I've bedded thousands of women - some very famous, I might add. The original question was about a serious relationship, was it not?"

"So, no serious relationships," I concluded. "Just how famous were these famous women? Did you sleep with anyone I've ever heard of?"

James looked shocked. "I'm sure I have, but a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. A woman's virtue should be protected by her suitors."

"Well doesn't that just make you the most chivalrous man on the planet," I complimented him. "I'm afraid the men today don't share your high moral standards. They seem to love bragging about their conquests."

I quickly made my mind as blank as possible, not wanting to bring an old memory back into my current thoughts. I had lost my virginity to a jerk who couldn't wait to tell the world he had gotten a cherry. And didn't I just want to relive that experience with James...

"You're trying to hide something from me," James said, searching my face for a clue. "Very good job. You know how to empty any relevant thought from your mind. I'm impressed. However, I already know about Greg."

"But you said you can only see someone's memories if they're thinking about them currently. I wasn't thinking about him. In fact, you just said I was blocking you from getting into my mind. How does seeing my memories work, then?" I pressed him for an answer.

"In order to view your actual memories, see what you have seen, feel everything you felt, I have to be touching you. That is why I took your hand in mine, the first time," he continued his explanation.

"The first time?" I questioned.

"Yes. I saw all of your past the first time I took your hand. After that, I held your hand simply because I liked touching you," he said, seeming slightly embarrassed by his confession.

The awkward silence stretched out between us as deep and wide as the grand canyon. He liked touching me? I wondered if he liked being the touch-or as much as I liked being the touch-ee.

"Well then," I spoke up, hoping to change the subject to something other than my past love life, "did you find any surprises lurking in there? I've seen some pretty gristly sights in my line of work."

"You certainly have," he answered, shaking his head. "Far too many. You constantly put yourself in danger - something I plan to remedy. At the very least, I can level the playing field, so to speak. I realize you love what you do, chasing bad guys and making sure justice is served, and I wouldn't ask you to resign, but I am going to be part of that from now on. The thought of you out there by yourself, hunting down the very dregs of humanity, is nearly paralyzing. That's the reason behind my contacting the CIA. Suddenly appearing out of nowhere, as you put it. Now that I have come forward, you and I are going to be a team."

"A team," I parroted, with a complete lack of enthusiasm and a shitload of sarcasm. "I work solo, if you hadn't noticed. I've never even considered having a permanent partner. I rely on my gifts to assist me. Not that you wouldn't be any agent's dream team mate, but I'm not sure..."

"The CIA will be delighted with our arrangement," he assured me, cutting me off. "And as I said, you are my chosen mate. There really is nothing you can do to prevent me from being your partner. Eventually, we will live the life we were meant to live, but until then, I'll be by your side, twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five."

"You will, huh?" I balked, the don't-put-any-money-on-that-bet clearly evident in my voice.

"Yes, Cam, I most assuredly will," James insisted casually, matter-of-fact-ing me right back.

Clearly, the immovable object had met the irresistible force.

"Like you said, you've had a long time to get used to the idea that you don't get to choose your own destiny. It's a whole new concept for me. I've always been the one to decide what I'm going to do. I'm not so sure I can just jump on the back of your white horse and ride off into the sunset with you."

"I reacted the same way you are, at first. I was furious that I was being denied the right to select the person I wanted to spend the rest of my existence with. Being turned into a vampire against my will seemed a high enough price to pay for being given supernatural abilities. But the truth is, on my own - and I certainly did try - I never found anyone I wanted to spend eternity with. Eventually, I realized it was because the one chosen for me was still out there, somewhere in time." James was pointing out what I did not want to give even a hint of credibility to.

"_You probably need to listen to him_," Spirit Girl whispered sheepishly.

"_And if you're gonna take his side, you probably need to shut the fuck up_," I hissed at her, anger at feeling doomed to accept the inevitable building up inside me.

"How can you be so sure?" I challenged. "You said you've only seen me from a distance. Maybe I'm not who you think I am. I could be a total bitch, for all you know. I'm totally anal about everything being spotless and perfect - OCD to the max, which bugs the hell out of everyone. I blast Depeche Mode while I'm cleaning house - which I do naked, by the way. I'm sure you'd find my habits intolerable and pretty much impossible to live with."

James sat silently, patiently, waiting for me to vent good and proper. The fact that his home was immaculate, bordering on being sterile, coupled with my having no clue as to his taste in music, beyond the jazz playing in his car, made my tirade little more than a waste of perfectly good breath.

And he had that damn panty-dropping grin on his face.

Jumping to my feet in defiance of feeling so vulnerable, I reminded myself of a poster I had. One that had a tiny mouse bravely flipping off the eagle that was about to sink its talons into him.

"What if I have absolutely no desire to be your chosen one? What if I don't want you for my mate? What if I tell the CIA that I absolutely will not have you as my partner? What happens if I just turn around and walk out that door, and you never see me again?" I huffed, the threats sounding hallow and weak even in my own ears.

James stood slowly and stared into my eyes, his face a mask of deep emotion. His eyes began glowing softly, the buzz of electricity humming in the air around us. Suddenly, pinpoint flicks of light surrounded the two of us, forming a web of flashing colors. Again, he took both my hands in his. As his eyes became the vivid neon turquoise, James the Vampire spoke.

"You can reject me, and you can refuse my help. You don't have to believe a single word I've told you. And, yes, you can walk right out that door. But you can never walk out of my life. I will be the smile on your lips when you wake and the sigh as you drift off to sleep. Every peaceful dream, every feeling of contentment will be me. I'll be the sunshine on your window, the rainbow after a storm. I'll be the reason you walk into a room and can't remember why. Yes, Cam, you can turn your back on me. But like a puzzle with a piece missing, you can never be complete without me."

Once again, I was speechless. I searched his face and found the sincerity I sought. He had spoken from his heart, whether beating or not, and had bared what must have been his soul. That feeling of melting into him returned - with a vengeance. As much as I wanted to fight it, to deny it, I wanted this man more than I had ever wanted anyone in my life.

I leaned forward, slowly, face upturned. My eyes locked on his, neither of us breathing. Our lips met, softly at first, then hungrily drinking each other in, our kiss like tasting the finest wine for the first time after giving it up for Lent. His arms wrapped around me; mine tightened around his neck in response. He gently licked my lips before parting them, seeking entrance with his tongue. My tongue danced with his, back and forth from his mouth to mine.

His hand shifted up under my shirt, cupping my breast, gently fondling and pinching my nipple through my lacey bra. I arched my back, eagerly pushing into him. My breath was ragged, gasping as his touch set me on fire. His lips kissed their way down my neck, lingering to tenderly bite my throat. The thought of him biting me in earnest caused my sex to ignite and flood my panties. I held onto him for dear life.

Sensing my desire for him, he removed his arm from around my back and slid his hand down my stomach. His fingers pressed between my legs. Blushing at knowing he felt the wetness he had caused, I buried my face in his chest.

Both of us were suddenly insatiable, ravenous for one another; mere kissing and touching wasn't nearly enough.

"What's it time for, James?" I begged for an answer, hoping my imagination had been a premonition. "Show me, J. Show me what twelve hundred years of waiting was for. Now, J. Please."

He swept me up into his arms and flew up the staircase. When we arrived at his bedroom door, he kicked it open and continued inside. A fire suddenly roared to life in the hearth, candles at various places around the room began to flicker, and soft music from another era began playing.

James carried me to the bed and sat me down like I was made of glass. Slowly he unbuttoned my shirt and slipped it down my arms. Without pausing, he undid the front clasp on my bra and tossed it over his shoulder. After a light kiss on my lips, he knelt on the floor between my legs. His mouth found my hardened nipples, sucking one then the other and back again. I let my head fall back, giving in to the pure thrill of it, pressing into him as hard as I could. He gently suckled my breasts, and teased my nipples with his tongue until I thought I would explode.

Standing, he lifted my legs, placing them on the bed, bidding me to lie down.

As his lips kissed their way down my stomach, his hands unzipped my pants and pushed them down my legs. His tongue and fingers ran across the edge of my saturated thong, making me squirm and gasp at the sensation.

The fingers on his right hand slid down inside the lace and across my hot, wet sex, as his left hand grabbed a handful of black lace. In one quick pull, my panties were history. His mouth quickly replaced his right hand, his tongue pushing inside me. I spread my legs to accommodate him. Within minutes, I was riding the roller coaster of orgasm; flying up and down like gravity had ceased to hold me. He continued his oral attention until I begged him to stop. He held me tightly as I slowly spiraled back to earth.

"You taste like the finest mead," he whispered. "Delicious honey wine and sweet nectar."

"I want more of you," I pleaded, running my hand down the front of his pants, cupping his throbbing erection. "All of you. I want you in me. Fill me completely, J. Fill me with you."

He sat up, the turquoise glow from his eyes eerily lighting up the room.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "You understand that it will mean you accepted your place with me. That you are my chosen mate. A mating that can never be undone, except by death."

"Then, I guess I... " my voice trailed off. Could I do this? How could I make this kind of decision so soon? Why did it have to be so damn final?

James stood and shed his clothes. His body was perfect, his cock long and hard. A sculptor's dream, he stood before me in all his naked glory. Silently waiting for me to make the ultimate commitment.

_"How can I do this?"_ I questioned my grandmother's spirit, which had suddenly made its presence known. _"Is this really my destiny? Is this the man created for me? Toots, you know. Tell me please - is he my chosen one? Have I met my angel?"_

_"Look inside yourself, child. What is your heart telling you? Your gifts will guide you," _she assured me, giving me the answer I sought.

Without a moment's hesitation, I slid off the bed and stood in front of him, arms at my side, bathed in the shimmering light from his eyes. I knew I couldn't possibly speak. There was no way to put into words what I was going to say. Instead, I closed my eyes, laid my forehead against his chest, and slowly let out the breath I had been holding.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After what seemed like hours, I stepped away from him and sat on the edge of the bed, forcing myself to speak. "James, you know I'm attracted to you - especially physically. And I know you truly believe what you're telling me about being your chosen mate. I'm trying hard to deny it, but somewhere down inside me I... maybe... It's just too much too fast. I need some time. I mean, you said you were furious at the idea, yourself, and it took a while to get used to it and finally surrender to it. I just need time to get to know you. In a human relationship the couple usually gets married because they're in love with each other, and..."

"But I do love you, Cam," James cut me off in protest.

"You may think you do, but you can't possibly be _in_ love with me - that's a completely different emotion," I rationalized. "And if we're going to be chosen mates someday, I have to be in love with you. That doesn't happen overnight. Right at this moment, I could jump your bones and have super, uninhibited sex with you. And I know it would be epic - but it would only be having sex."

"I don't understand," he said softly, his voice betraying the hurt he felt . "If you admit we will be mated someday, why waste time? Why not now?"

"If we are going to be mated someday, why the rush? Please, let me get used to the whole thing. Let me get to know you. We'll be partners - a team - I'll arrange that with my superiors. We'll spend every waking moment together. But please, if this is going to work, let me fall in love with you first. If I'm only going to do this once, I'm going to do it the old fashioned way. Besides, I don't want to be cheated out of the courtship part."

"Courtship? As in candy and flowers? A moonlit stroll? Me wining and dining you? Yes, I can see that's exactly what you mean," James said, sitting down beside me, sounding full of eagerness and hope.

"As long as we're together, we can put off the mating ceremony for awhile. Who knows? Once you get to know me better, you may change your mind," I suggested.

"That is not an option." James was once again one-hundred percent up-tight vampire.

"Lighten up, J. I was only joking, and that's something I do a lot. Get used to it and quit being so serious. We're officially going steady now so you can relax," I teased.

"Going steady? But if we're going to be mated, doesn't that mean we're engaged? You're at least my betrothed, aren't you?" he questioned.

"Fiance is the current vernacular," I corrected him. "And no, we're not engaged until you formally ask me- not tell me - to marry you, er, mate, whatever, and you put a ring on my finger. That's what makes it official."

"I see," he mumbled, contemplating the whole idea. "Any particular type ring? Or the ring of my choosing?"

"Usually a diamond, but it can be anything, I guess." Why was I suddenly getting excited about the thought? "Wait a minute," I verbally threw on the brakes. "You said you can get into someone's head to see thoughts, read memories, and plant a suggestion. Are you doing this or am I really getting these feelings on my own?"

"I assure you, you're quite on your own," he answered, sounding a bit miffed. "And I should have qualified that by saying 'most people.' For some reason, I can only read your thoughts and, if I'm touching you, see your memories. I don't seem to be able to influence your decision making process. It's as if some sort of shield falls in between us whenever I try."

Spirit Girl made a Rosie the Riveter fist and did a little happy dance.

"Strange," I remarked to James.

"_Way to go, girlfriend_," I mentally congratulated my guide, who did a coquettish curtsy in response.

"Yes, quite unique," James agreed. "I attribute it to your supernatural gifts. Sometimes they manifest as spiritual guides, and jealously refuse to let any outside sources influence their host. I suspect that's what's happening in your case."

"_And don't you forget it!"_ Spirit Girl warned, assuming a karate stance.

"You're probably right," I mused. "Sometimes I feel like there's someone else sharing my body with me. Like I have a constant companion. Mostly, it's very comforting. Occasionally, however... " I let my thought dissipate into the air, knowing my guide would get my drift.

I had been so caught up in the moment and our subsequent conversation that I forget we were both stark naked. A deep blush warmed my face as I remembered James had just read that thought.

"You're self-conscious about being au natural? With me? After the intimacy we just shared?" James asked, with a chuckle. "You have a beautiful body. And clothing is highly overrated."

"Thank you, but now that we're just sitting here having a casual conversation, I think clothing is in order," I countered.

Suddenly, "I Just Can't Get Enough" was blasting throughout the room. "You could sweep the floor, if you'd like." Just as quickly, James' musical laughter replaced the song.

I had to join in with him. Throwing my comment about doing housework in the buff back in my face was damn funny. He had a very clever wit and great dry sense of humor. He would make an excellent sparring challenge, as well as an incredible...

"_Lover,"_ Spirit Girl quickly filled in the blank. "_Admit it."_

_"Partner," _I conceded.

"Didn't you say something about a walk on your private beach?" I reminded him, changing the subject completely. "The sun isn't quite up yet, but it is daylight. I think some morning ocean air would be refreshing."

I slid off the bed and started gathering my clothes. My pants and shirt had fallen off the side of the bed. Due to J's vampire strength, my bra was on the other side of the room, lying next to a ragged piece of black lace that had once been my thong.

"There is clothing for you in your closet," James told me casually, pointing to a door at the end of the room. "I trust you'll find something to your liking."

"My closet? You bought clothes for me?" I asked, not knowing exactly what emotion I was, or should be, feeling. "You seriously had this meeting planned out in detail, didn't you?"

"I have imagined our first meeting for a thousand years. The minute details may have changed slightly over the centuries, but essentially they have remained intact throughout the years: we meet, we mate, you are mine. Simple. I have been waiting not-so-patiently to shower you with gifts and fineries, so I merely decided to get started on accumulating them. Your closet is just one of the many surprises I have for you." He was clearly enjoying himself very much.

"Well, all-righty-then," I tossed off, suddenly dying to see my first surprise.

I forced myself to walk at a normal pace, not wanting to seem too eager, then remembering he was reading my thoughts, I hurried to the closet and threw the door open. It was like walking into a chic boutique filled with clothes and accessories in the styles and colors I liked, and all in my size. It was nothing short of amazing. Everything from casual shorts to designer formal wear lined the walls. Built in dressers were full of lingerie, panties and bras, bathing suits, tee shirts, you name it. The shoe racks were stocked of every type footwear - sandals to boots to stilettos, each pair having a matching purse. Hats of all styles and colors were hung in rows. Sweaters were neatly folded in stacks, shelved behind glass doors. Each wall had a floor to ceiling mirror, allowing a three-sixty view of yourself. There was even a refrigerated section full of mink, ermine, chinchilla, and fox outerwear.

Slipping into a satin robe before sitting down on one of the padded benches in the center of the room, I took another sweeping glance around the room. He had spent days, weeks, not to mention thousands of dollars, putting this altogether. For me. The thought made me more than a little giddy. In fact, just the idea of being this man's chosen mate was beyond overwhelming, let alone everything else that was apparently part of the package.

"_And what a package he has!"_ Spirit Girl swooned and fanned herself.

"Knock, knock," James said cheerfully, interrupting my thoughts. "How do you like my efforts so far?"

"Eee-haw! You look downright delicious, cowboy," I drawled like a Texan. He had dressed in tight jeans, button-up, fitted, long sleeve shirt, Tony Llama boots, and a black Stetson.

"I didn't mean me," he said, clearly embarrassed by my comment. "Your wardrobe. How do you like my attempt at setting up a closet for you?"

"I'm blown away," I gushed. "I honestly don't know what to say or even think. You've gone completely overboard. But I can't say I don't absolutely love every single thing in here. It's just so incredible. Seems like every minute I'm with you is more amazing than the one before."

"Wonderful," he said, very pleased with my reaction. "I promise to try to insure that never changes. You're a pretty amazing woman yourself, Dr. Manning."

"Thank you, kind sir," I responded, adding an extra smile to my voice. "And if you don't mind, this amazing woman would love to take that walk on the beach. I spotted an outfit I'm dying to wear that will be just perfect. You didn't by any chance make coffee, did you?"

"It will be ready by the time you're dressed," he assured me, disappearing in a blur.

I had decided on white skinny jeans, a pink sweater, hemp sandals, and a white straw hat. Checking the vanity, I found all my favorite makeup in the shades I wore. Of course. If you're going to do it at all - do it right. Or in his case, do it perfect.

True to his word, a cup of steaming coffee was waiting for me when I joined him in the morning room.

"Since you're not really a breakfast person, I took the liberty of getting you your usual." He presented me with a perfectly toasted bagel, spread with unsalted butter, on a dainty china plate. "Just a little something to sustain you during our walk. Please, help yourself to anything you'd like. There's something I need to do before we go."

He returned just as I was finishing my snack. He had a basket in one hand and a blanket under his arm.

"Ready?" he asked, sounding more like we were going on safari.

"Ready," I responded in the same adventurous tone.

The hike down to the beach consisted of an elevator, an underground tunnel, a jillion stairs, and a real path leading out of a well-hidden cave. No one could possibly find the entrance from the beach by chance; you'd definitely have to know exactly where to look for it. Once outside, the beach itself was secluded. Thick vegetation grew densely on either side of the sandy opening and continued to the water's edge. Other than coming from the house, the only access to James' private beach was by water. And from the looks of the jagged reef just off shore, only a scuba diver had any sort of chance.

"You certainly don't do anything half-assed, do you?" I posed the rhetorical question. "This is right out of James A. Michener."

The sand was glistening white and the ocean crystal blue. It was a postcard for a tropical paradise.

"I have always loved the sea," he reflected dreamily. "Most of my homes are near water. I was most fortunate in finding this estate. It's become one of my favorites."

"I won't even ask," I mumbled, wondering how many other houses he had and where they might be located.

"You'll see them all, in time. I expect we'll be doing extensive traveling in our line of work, won't we?" he reminded me of our upcoming partnership.

"Yes, I travel frequently, but my employer usually arranges my accommodations to best serve the assignment I'm on. We'll have to see how things mesh - okay? Changing the subject completely - what's in the basket?" I inquired, taking the blanket from him and spreading it out on the sand.

"You know the old saying - a loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou..."

We sat down side by side, facing the water. The morning was still crisp and cool, but that combination coupled with the salty air was as refreshing as I'd hoped. After a few moments of silently watching the waves break on the shore, James uncorked the wine and poured two glasses.

"To our future," he said, clinking his glass against mine before taking a sip.

"The future," I replied. "So tell me more, Mr. Vampire. You started life as a human. Is there such a thing as being born a vampire?"

"Actually, yes, however only a pure male and pure female can have a vampire offspring. I'm afraid they're a dying breed. There are only a handful of pure vampires - those who were born vampires - who could procreate." His voice was full of sadness. "The rest of us were created."

"Can you father a child?" I asked, wondering what sort of offspring a human and a human-turned-vampire would create.

"Yes, I believe I can, not that I've ever thought about doing so," he contemplated. "Why do you ask? Do you desire to have a child? I must admit you've caught me off guard."

"No, I was just curious. I'm sure I thought about getting married and having children when I was younger - all little girls do, but once I focused on my schooling and then on my career, thoughts of playing house for real disappeared. Maybe somewhere in the deepest recesses of my mind I want a family of my own, but so far..."

"You haven't met anyone who you could ride off into the sunset with," James finished my sentence for me. "Don't you see the truth, my dearest? No man ignited the passion in you. No one made you want to be his forever. No one, Cam, because you were made for me. Only I can satisfy your needs and desires. Me, and no one else."

I looked at the ocean, then at the sky, and the trees, and the sand, and anywhere but at James. Finally, I just closed my eyes.

"You're quite an amazing man," I said softly. "You know exactly what to say. How to push my buttons."

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you," he spoke as softly as I had. Taking my hand in his, he kissed the back of it gently. "You need sleep. Let's go back to the house."

"I think you're right," I agreed, flashing a congenial smile as I stood and picked up the basket. "But I'd like to take a shower first, if that's okay."

"Absolutely," James said, having folded the blanket by the time he finished saying the word.

I followed him back to the house, committing mental notes on the premises to my photographic memory. The security and surveillance system was top notch; the lawns and gardens impeccable. The pool and statuary looked like something you'd see on Mt. Olympus.

"I just need to freshen up and take a short nap before seriously getting up close and personal with my... private department store. Closet just doesn't do it justice."

"Call it whatever suits your fancy, my dear," he said. "It's yours to enjoy. And I hope you don't mind, although we each have our own private commodes, we do share the steam room, sauna, jacuzzi tub, and shower."

"And I was counting on my own sauna. Damn it," I teased, but noted he obviously assumed sharing the bedroom was a given. "So which way to the shower?"

I found the drawer containing the panties with matching bras, grabbed a fresh set, and followed James. The bathroom, which was actually more like a five-star spa, was neatly situated between his closet and mine. I had seen castles of royalty and mansions belonging to the extremely rich, and none of them were any more ornate than this. With the exception of the redwood sauna, the rest was made of marble, gold, and glass. Breathtaking. Old world charm and craftsmanship blended into an exquisite modern bath, complete with heated floors and towel racks.

And the solid gold toothbrush engraved with my initials was the icing on the cake.

The shower, which was actually a room, featured an overhead rain system as well as at least a dozen shower heads, placed at different heights and angles. Rather than turning on the water and adjusting the hot and cold, you simply selected the temperature you wanted and stepped in. Within seconds, I was being soaked from all sides in soothing one-hundred-four degree water.

While rinsing the shampoo from my hair, I instinctively felt James' presence before I saw him.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, closing the door behind him. "I'm excellent at shower massage. May I show you my talents?"

"I guess since you're here, you might as well dazzle me with your brilliant fingers, unless you're just trying to baffle me with bullshit."

Immediately flashing on what his very talented fingers, lips, and tongue had already showed me earlier, the wetness between my legs had nothing whatsoever to do with being in the shower. James chuckled as my face went crimson. I joined him in laughing, but made a mental note: I'd better remember to keep any thoughts I didn't want to share with him in check.

As our laughter faded, we once again locked eyes. The tip of his tongue peeked between his lips and ran slowly across the bottom of his top teeth, now morphing into very long fangs. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.

Standing and facing him, I stepped into his open arms. After a brief hug, he cupped both my breasts in his hands, bending down to kiss each nipple, gently suckling them in the process. My core was in melt-down mode.

He squeezed a handful of exotic gel-lotion-oil mixture into his palm and began massaging my back. As his slippery hands slid down my ass, I slowly exhaled, blowing out my breath and letting him know the effect he was having on me.

"Are you sure we can't have 'just sex'?" I whimpered. "Does it really have to wait until we consummate a mating?"

"We could," he answered just as softly, turning me around, then placing my hair over one shoulder. He slowly dragged his fangs across the back of my neck. "But I promised myself I wouldn't take you until after our ceremony. You're making it very difficult for me to keep that promise."

"I won't tell, if you break it," I bargained. "It will be just as special when it's the real thing. But I really want you, J. Can't you see I'm burning? Help me put the fire out. Please, J."

"I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my entire existence. The fire that burns in you is consuming both of us."

Sliding his lathered up hands around my body, he massaged my breasts, then down my stomach. He pressed his fingers between my legs, nearly scorching me with the current that crackled around us. The flickering web of lights surrounded us again, reflecting wildly off the spray of water. As he gently worked his magic on my sex, I felt like putty in his hands. I closed my eyes and leaned back against him, letting him hold me upright while I surrendered to his touch.

My orgasm was an eight-point-o magnitude; my entire body trembled in reaction. He turned me around to face him and kissed me with a deeper passion than I thought imaginable. When I looked into his face, his eyes began changing from golden pools to glowing turquoise, vivid and electric. Again, his tongue licked the tip of his fangs.

I sucked in a breath, holding it like it might be my last.

"You may have bewitched me into breaking the vow I made to myself, but I swear, the first time I take you will not be in the shower," James growled, scooping me up in his arms and marching back into the bedroom.

Climbing backward across the bed, he took me with him as he laid down. His kisses were soft and full of desire, yet at the same time urgent and needy. He grabbed a handful of my hair, fisting it tightly, holding my head in place.

"I'll honor your request regarding our mating, if, in the interim, we execute a blood bond. It will connect you to me. I'll be able to find you anywhere, hear your thoughts from very far away," he explained. "You'll be a part of me: an extension. And having sex will happen just this one time."

"Okay," I agreed. "But I have no idea how to do a blood bond, unless it's like the tribe making someone a blood brother: cutting your palms open and holding them together."

"It's an ancient vampire ritual, but it is similar to your Native American version. With one small difference..."

I felt the sting on my neck as his fang tore my skin. He gently sucked a mouthful of my blood and swallowed. Then he bit his wrist and held it out, palm up, offering it to me.

"Drink my essence into your body, Cam. Bond with me, chosen one."

Without hesitation I pressed my lips to his bleeding wrist and sucked like a nursing baby. The sensation of having dropped very potent acid was immediate. My head spun off into space and my body was weightless, floating. The taste was nearly indescribable: spicy hot and at the same time tangy sweet. And I felt as if I could never drink enough.

"Cam, dearest, enough. You must stop or there will be severe consequences," he warned.

"Your blood... is beyond... incredible," I stuttered, licking my lips so not one drop was wasted. "It tastes like... like... the nectar of the gods."

Then he kissed me.

Knowing his blood in my mouth was mixing with my own blood in his was beyond erotic. It was utopia. Valhalla. Heaven on earth. Our desire for one another exploded, ripping a gaping hole in the ozone.

He flipped me over onto my back, hovering above me. His eyes were once more pools of liquid gold - he was in his human persona. I pressed my hands against his chest, then slid one down to cup his fully erect junk. A low moan came from the back of his throat, escalating into a roar as he entered me.

I opened my legs, welcoming him. Urging him to fill me. Our bodies responded to each other like a master musician playing a fined tuned instrument. We locked into a slow, erotic rhythm, hips moving together, mirroring one another's movement. The tempo reached a crescendo; we came together, both crying out in pleasure. As he emptied himself into me, he sat up, pulling me with him. He held me tightly for a moment, before laying back on the bed.

My legs straddled him, his rigid dick easily slipping inside me again. He placed his hands around my waist, gently lifting and lowering me, filling me with himself. I continued on my own strength, building the momentum as he moved his hands up to caress my breasts, fondling my nipples. My own hands slid up his stomach - a six-pack any body builder would envy. His nipples reacted to my touch as mine did his. Rather than extinguishing the fire inside me, our intimate connection became a volcano. Molten lava ate its way through me from the inside out. James held me tightly in place as his cock released inside me. Arching my back, I let my head fall limply forward, and gave in to the throes of my own climax.

For a few moments, we lay side by side, breathing in sync, enjoying the lingering intimacy of having just had great sex, before climbing under the covers and settling in bed together.

"Was that what having sex with you will always be like? You did switch back to human mode, right? Or was it different because of the blood bond?" I asked, hoping I was being tactful in finding out if I had just found the ultimate sex machine.

"The blood bond may have made it a bit more intense, but only a little," he answered, not sounding offended in any way. "And, yes, I was in human persona. It is forbidden to give yourself sexually in true vampire form until after an official mating."

"Now will I be able to hear your thoughts and know where you are?" I wanted to know if the door swung both ways.

"You will feel me. You'll know by the degree of force you feel how near or far I am from you, but you won't be able to read my thoughts," he answered. "The blood bond coupled with an intimate connection makes the force very strong."

"I'm glad we did it, then. The blood bond, I mean. Well, the sex, too, but I'm actually feeling guilty about that part," I confessed.

"Guilty? I don't understand. I thought you wanted to have 'just sex' with me," he stated, confusion evident in his voice.

"You broke your vow. I don't take that sort of thing lightly. For that, I'm truly sorry. But if it's any consolation, you're incredible, and I'm going want to have sex with you again before very long, I'm afraid. For now, we'll take it slow, do the courtship thing, and see what happens."

"I've waited this long, I can wait a while longer. I understand human emotions, and I'll respect your desire to follow human protocol. Just please, Cam," he pleaded, "fall in love with me quickly."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I awoke at dusk, hugging my pillow tightly and feeling incredibly vivacious and energetic. A quick glance around the room confirmed I was alone. Inhaling deeply, I slid my hand between my legs and ran my index finger across my sex.

_"He was incredible, wasn't he?" _Spirit Girl asked like a school girl with a new crush.

"He sure was... is," I agreed out loud. "Mmm..mad fine."

Throwing off the covers, I slipped out of bed and headed for the shower. After getting all parts squeaky clean, I perfumed, powdered, and polished myself. This time I chose a floor-length, long sleeve dress made of a purple gauzy fabric. It clung in all the right places and the plunging neckline made my cleavage look great. The purple lace bra and thong I wore underneath were the exact same color. Applying just the basic makeup and letting my hair hang loosely down my back, I decided on donning a beaded anklet and no shoes to achieve the bohemian look I was hoping for.

Satisfied with my reflection, I hurried down the stairs in search of my host.

Who was nowhere to be found.

After checking all the rooms I had previously been shown, I ventured out onto the deck. It was twilight - the sun slowly slipping into its repose as the moon assumed sentry duty for the night. As I stood at the rail watching the changing of the heavenly guard, my senses quickened. I had a tingling sensation from head to toe. All systems were instantly on high alert.

I slowly exhaled as I recognized it was him.

I hadn't given much thought to his telling me I'd "feel" him, but now I understood fully what he meant. Although it wasn't anything tangible, I certainly did feel the force of him. And he was definitely getting closer. The feeling of soothing warmth gave me a sense of comfort and safety. This was going to be nice. Really nice. And without turning around to look, I knew the second he stepped onto the deck.

"I like feeling you," I said, still gazing at the ocean as the sun finally pulled the covers over its head. "It's like a warm fuzzy. Comforting. Soothing."

"I'm pleased you recognized it was me and not your surroundings," James said, suddenly standing next to me. "The sunset here also gives a sense of tranquility and peace, does it not?"

"Yes, it's breathtaking. But this feeling was from inside me. Deep inside me. I knew it was you. And I like it," I whispered the last phrase as I turned to face him.

All the candles and the flame in the fire pit flickered to life as James kissed me. And the feeling deep inside me burned hotter and brighter than all of them combined.

"Can you hold that thought for a minute? I really need to check in," I said, making a futile effort not to stifle the magic in the air. "Given the nature of our meeting, they'll be sending out the National Guard if they don't hear from me soon."

"Of course, my dear," J replied cordially. "I certainly don't want to get off on the wrong foot with my new employer, since we're going to be officially working together. I'll get the champagne and hors d'oeuvres while you make your call. I have my own satellite so there's no problem with cell service or internet."

"Why am I not surprised?" I mumbled, punching the number into my cell phone. "Hello, this is Dr. Rhyleigh Manning, and I'd like to make a reservation for dinner: nine o'clock tomorrow evening. Window table for two. See you then."

"Fascinating," James said, as he handed me a flute of champagne. "That was spy-talk, wasn't it? Some sort of prearranged code? I'm a real fan of Bond. James Bond."

"Speaking of James Bond, what is your last name? We've tried to find out anything we could about your background, but we know absolutely nothing about you. You do have a surname, right?" I asked, wondering if he actually did.

"I use Leelan's family name whenever I've been required to have one myself," he explained. "Last names weren't always as important as they are now. I've lived quite well for a very long time without having a surname, social security number, ID number, driver's license, the list goes on. That's probably how I've enjoyed my anonymity all these years."

"Probably, but that's all going to end now. If you're going to work for the US government, you're going to have all of those things. So, your name is..." I let him fill in the blank.

"Ravenscroft. Dr. James Leelan Ravenscroft. The one and only," he said with a flourish.

"You may be right about that," I conceded.

"I am, indeed. I googled the name and came up with no matches."

"You googled it?" I said, giggling. "You're a high tech vampire from six-seventy three AD."

"And you're a world renowned profiler from nineteen-eighty-one. I'd say that makes us the perfectly matched couple, wouldn't you?" His musical laughter made my giggles sound like a silly adolescent school girl's.

"I never thought I'd ever say this, but I think we'll make a good team. Really. I mean, between my gifts and supernatural abilities, and your magic and vampireness, who can possibly get past us?" I asked rhetorically.

"Vampireness?" he parroted. "Is that even a word?"

"It is now," I confirmed, giving him a seductive wink.

"Well, if that's the case, this vampireness wishes to serve you dinner. You must be famished," he said, taking my hand and leading me to a table set for two in a cozy gazebo by the outdoor fireplace. "I've had my chef prepare you're favorites: medium rare filet mignon, Swiss chard, and butter-and-parsley red potatoes, with freshly baked sourdough bread and unsalted butter. No beets in your salad. And warm peach cobbler with whipped cream for dessert."

"Are you kidding me?" I managed to choke out. "I'll gain five pounds. I never eat like that. Wait... you have a chef?"

"I have a full staff here," he answered as if everyone did. "Even I would have a difficult time keeping up with all the maintenance this estate requires. And cooking and cleaning are not my strong suits. Before we leave tomorrow, I will call the staff together so you can meet them all."

"That sounds wonderful. They sound wonderful - both things, I mean," I said, stumbling over my words. "Meeting the staff and staying here tonight. With you."

"I'm pleased you think so," James said casually, while his face betrayed his delight. "Edmund, you may serve now." A man in formal attire immediately set plates of salad and a basket of hot bread in front of us. "Thank you, we'll have our entrees in thirty minutes. By the way, Edmund, this is my guest, Dr. Manning. Rhyleigh, my chief of staff, Edmund."

The gentleman, who appeared to be in his fifties, tall and slender with beautiful silver hair, twinkling eyes, and a devilish smile, nodded and disappeared.

After a dinner Gordon Ramsey would have given his left nut for, we retired to J's library, a room filled with more books than most cities had in theirs. It smelled of freshly polished mahogany wood and aged leather. A fire glowed in the hearth, and the overall ambiance was old world magic. Add a wine captain and I could live in this room quite contentedly.

Two glasses of port later, James offered me a tour of the house.

"I really should have been dropping pebbles behind me," I joked, as we ended up in our bedroom nearly an hour later. "It'll be years before I can navigate this place on my own. It's truly beautiful, J, like something right out of a fairy tale."

"I really like that," he responded, giving my hand a squeeze. "The way you call me 'J.' I've never had a nickname before. I've always been 'James.' You make me feel very special, Cam."

"And only the person I loved more than anyone or anything else called me 'Cam.'" I said softly, the emotion evident in my quivering voice. "But I like the way you say it as much as when she said it."

"Well then, we may be Dr. Rhyleigh Manning and Dr. James Ravenscroft to the rest of the world, but we're just Cam and J when we're alone."

That night, I fell asleep in J's arms, and dreamed of being a princess in a fairytale castle.

The next day I woke at just past noon. Getting my days and nights switched to accommodate J's lifestyle was easier than I thought it would be. I had always been a "night" person, and wasn't usually fit company until after my second cup of coffee in the morning anyway. This would work. Needing to make sure we'd be back in town on time for our meeting, I woke J with gentle kisses, starting from his forehead and trailing slowly down his body. His dick was fully awake and ready for my mouth as I ran my tongue around the head.

"Cam, you naughty girl," he chastised me. "You certainly don't fight fair. You've already caused me to break a promise I made to myself, and now you're on the verge of doing it again. I'm never this vulnerable. You've bewitched me - I swear you have. What am I going to do with you?"

"Shall I stop, then?" I asked innocently.

"I'm thinking that since you've been such a wicked girl, maybe you should be punished."

J's voice and demeanor took on a whole new countenance, and before what he had suggested even began to register in my brain, I was lying across his lap, thong pulled down around my knees. He was gently rubbing my ass with his right hand while his left was holding a handful of my hair.

"You're going to spank me? Really?" I asked incredulously, beginning to believe he wasn't teasing at all.

Rather than answer me verbally, I felt the sting of his palm initiating a come-to-Jesus-meeting with my ass. It stung. It burned. And didn't the whole thing just turn me on?

"Really?" I asked again, this time in unison with my highly offended spirit guide.

Once again, his hand answered my question. This time he gave me three slaps in succession, each one harder than the one before. My cheeks were on fire, but my sex was throbbing and getting wetter with each smack. As he gently rubbed my ass again, I felt his rock-hard erection pushing against my stomach. He held his breath for a moment before administering three final, very hard swats, that landed more on my girl-parts than my butt.

His hand gently stroked between my legs; his orgasm and mine were simultaneous.

Picking me up in his arms, he sat me on his lap, leaving my panties down around my knees. He hummed softly, rocking and cradling me like a baby. He kissed my forehead, my eyes, my nipples, then my lips. Soft, gentle kisses as if I were a child he had just punished; to let me know I was loved and forgiven, and that the incident was over. Rather than being angry or fearful or embarrassed, I was elated. The feeling of doing penance for being bad, receiving punishment and subsequent absolution, was euphoric.

"You really need to be a good girl, Cam," he whispered, kissing my neck, and pushing my panties off onto the floor. "It's so much better when I don't have to discipline you. But you received your punishment well, and now you shall be rewarded. Let's have a shower, then get ready for our meeting. I can't wait to give you another of your surprises."

He carried me into the bathroom and didn't put me down until we were in the shower, steaming water cascading over both of us. After filling his hands with the special massage gel, he lathered my back, down my bright pink ass, my legs, then worked his way up the front of me, taking extra time between my legs and on my breasts. All the while, I stood like a statue, not speaking, and only taking enough breath to keep from getting light headed.

"Have I frightened you?" he asked, voice full of concern. "That is not the intent. I am loving and gentle, as well as cruel and firm when I must be. Being a chosen one has responsibilities. As we go through our courtship, you will learn my ways and I will learn yours. Once we are truly mated, our relationship will take on a new dimension. A whole new level of commitment. You will know what belonging to someone really means. The word 'mine' will have a whole new definition."

"So you're into BDSM?" I posed the question as politely as possible. "That was a first for me: my very first spanking in my entire life. And though for some completely off-the-wall reason it was a real turn-on, I'm not sure I could get into it on a regular basis. My ass still stings."

"As it should. But no, I'm not into BDSM and I don't think of you as my slave. A spanking just seemed to be in order," he stated matter-of-fact.

We finished our shower, got dressed, and prepared to head back down the coast to Los Angeles. True to his word, J summoned the entire staff - all thirty of them - to the living room and introduced me to each of them. My personal attendant was an Asian girl named Akira. She was geisha quality, with flawless alabaster skin, root beer eyes, and raven hair. She also appeared to be about my age. The staff ranged from gardeners to a CPA, and from early twenties to maybe late seventies. Aside from Edmund and, as of yesterday, Akira, they all lived on the grounds in an apartment complex of sorts. Edmund and Akira had rooms in the main house, allowing them to respond to our needs and requests immediately.

"Akira seems lovely," I commented to J, once everyone had been dismissed. "Was she my surprise? I'm sure we'll get along great."

"No, no, she's not a gift, she's a necessity," J said with a chuckle. "Not only is she a personal assistant, she's also a masseuse, fitness trainer, professional hair dresser, and makeup artist - not that you need those skills. You do quite nicely by yourself. But should you desire her assistance, she will be at your service. Your next surprise is in the garage. This way, my dear."

The garage easily held the dozen or so vehicles parked inside as well as the full-service maintenance shop it also housed. As we strolled past the first three cars, J became more excited. He stopped in front of the fourth one, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I looked from his face to the automobile he was gazing at. My black mustang was sitting there with a fresh coat of wax, but that wasn't what J was beaming about. It was what was parked next to it that he was showing me.

"No fucking way!" I exclaimed, looking back and forth between J and what must be my surprise. "This is insane. An Aston Martin? Really?"

"I told you I was a Double-O-Seven fan. And since we're in the spy game, it's only fitting we have the perfect spy car. Do you like it?" he asked, as if there was a possibility I didn't. "Is the color good for you? We can always get a different one, if you don't like gun metal gray."

"No, this one is perfect. M would be ecstatic. An Aston Martin One-77. Who would have ever... wow. Just wow." I shook my head in disbelief. "There you go, being amazing again. How am I ever going to be able to properly thank you for this?"

"You'll find a way. Of that, I'm very sure," he replied in his ear-candy voice. "Would you like to drive us to headquarters in your new automobile?"

"Does a rooster have a pecker?" I tossed off. "Of course, I want to drive. I can't wait to see the looks on their faces. Oh. My. God. I can't wait."

He handed me the keys and stepped aside. Climbing into the driver seat was like getting ready to fly a jet, blast off into orbit. There were gauges and gadgets galore. I stuck the key in the ignition and gave it a sight turn. The engine literally roared to life. J got into the passenger seat, and we were off.

"You handle this car as if it had been made just for you," he complimented me as we pulled out onto the main highway. "I'm impressed."

"You ain't seen nuthin' yet," I assured him, pressing the accelerator to the floor.

We arrived at headquarters right on time. Heads turned and all eyes were fixed on the six-foot-six, two hundred twenty pounds of male perfection as we entered the lobby. Not wanting to start the gossip brigade immediately, I walked beside him, hands in my pockets. We went straight to the elevator and up to the director's office. He was waiting for us.

"Good evening, Director Michaels," I addressed my current boss formally. "This is Dr. James Ravenscroft."

The two men shook hands, adding that extra squeeze men do to see who flinches. "Good to meet you, sir," J said cordially. "I understand I've been somewhat of a problem for your organization. Forgive me, please, but I place a high value on my privacy."

"I'm sure we can get past any problems and issues we may have with each other," the director acknowledged. "I trust Dr. Manning has convinced you our intentions are strictly honorable."

"She has, indeed. So much so that I would like to offer my services to you," J spoke in his dazzle-your-socks-off voice. "I'd be happy to advise any details of my background you may require. I assure you, I have no skeletons in my closet."

"May I ask what services you're offering?" Director Michaels inquired. "What is your area of expertise?"

"My extensive training in tracking will be quite beneficial to you and your agency. What I do is similar to what Dr. Manning does as a profiler. I'm a certified expert in criminal psychology and behavior. By combining her skills with mine, we would be able to find anyone, anywhere. As a team, we would be most formidable."

J had effectively blown his own horn and had Director Jeff Michaels dancing to the beat. I had to admit it was quite entertaining watching J plant suggestions in the director's mind.

"Interesting proposition," the director grunted, leaning back in his chair. "You two a field team. And I suppose Dr. Manning has already agreed to this proposal?"

"Yes, sir, I have," I spoke up. "We spent the past two days going over his background, training, success rate, all pertinent intel, and I believe we would be great together."

I blushed at having used a phrase that generally had sexual connotations. The director looked back and forth between J and me a few times, then laced his fingers together behind his head.

"For some reason, I agree with you two. Don't know why. Not my usual style," he spoke in clipped sentences. "But I have a gut feeling, and that's the best indicator. Go with your gut. Good advice. Great philosophy to live by. And we have just received the perfect case to test your theory. Rich young widow abducted from her home. No trace of her anywhere. No ransom demands. Getting reports of sightings around the world. Need to check it out and find her."

"Thank you, sir. She's as good as home," J assured him.

"I'll get you briefed. Not too much to go on. You can check out her house. Maybe something will trigger your instincts, Dr. Manning." Director Michaels stood, stretched, and yawned. "Been a very long day. Excuse me."

"Certainly," J said sympathetically. "I know how exhausting this work can be."

"We'll go to briefing room two," I advised. "I'll get the keys to her house and plan on going there tomorrow morning. Please have the jet standing by. We'll want to get on the strong leads while they're still hot."

We took our leave and headed for briefing. Lonnie Castro met us in the hallway on the way to the sound-proof room. After a quick introduction, we were given all the information the CIA had gathered so far. The director hadn't been understating his assessment: they had next to nothing. This was going to be just lots of fun. Not.

"Shall we check into a hotel?" J asked as we exited the building.

"We can go to my apartment," I offered. "You might as well see how the majority of us average humans live."

Actually, by current standards, my three-thousand square foot loft in Manhattan Beach was a notch or two above the average majority, but the CIA paid me quite well, and I was determined to live how and where I chose.

"Have you been in here before?" I asked J as I unlocked my front door.

"Only the outside," he confirmed. "I'm not into breaking and entering. With everyone watching me so closely, I probably would have been caught and arrested. Besides, your alarm system is very impressive."

"Well then, make yourself at home," I offered. "I'll throw something together for dinner. You make us a drink or pour us a glass of wine. Take your pick. And I'm sure if you really wanted in, my alarm system wouldn't have stopped you."

He opted to make drinks - two excellent Manhattans. He remembered what I had been drinking when I first met him. The man was amazing, for sure. I whipped up a salad and grilled two steaks. A couple candles on the table, and dinner was served.

"How often do you have to have blood?" I asked as we loaded the dishwasher.

"Every few days is sufficient. Pure vampires live on blood only. Since I am a human turned vampire, I can survive on both food and blood. Consuming more blood makes me stronger. Human blood gives the optimum benefit. Having blood banks in most cities makes it very convenient."

"Yeah, convenient," I echoed, picturing J in full vampire mode, sipping a goblet of blood. "Don't know about you, but I'm ready for bed, myself. We need to get an early start tomorrow."

"Agreed. I hope you're not going to offend me by offering me your guest room," J posed, pulling me into an embrace and nuzzling my neck.

"And risk another spanking? Not on your life... er, death... whatever," I assured him.

"I thought you rather enjoyed having me warm your ass," he teased, adding that panty-wetting smile of his.

"Incredibly yes, I did, for some insane reason," I confessed, feeling my face warm with embarrassment. "So what does that say about me? I've never even considered the master-slave thing before. Handcuffs and blindfolds and whips, oh my!"

"You prefer lions and tigers and bears?" J caught on to my Wizard of Oz parody. "I could teach you to love handcuffs and blindfolds and whips. In fact, you would be begging me to use them."

"I thought you weren't into the BDSM thing," I challenged. "Or does that depend on which James you are - the human wizard or the ancient vampire?"

"You catch on quickly," he complimented. "And I'm not into the BDSM thing you're referring to. I have had extensive training in the art of being a dominant, but prefer to practice the D/s lifestyle, actually. But not tonight. We'll save that for another time. Tonight, we sleep. There's work to do tomorrow, and we have to be in optimum form."

After a kiss or four, we settled in bed, J's arms wrapped tightly around me. Again I dreamed of being in a fairytale castle. Only this time, I was at the mercy of Master James, chained to the wall in his dungeon. Naked.

We woke up just after nine in the morning. The sky was overcast and cloudy, allowing J to freely move about outside. Grabbing a cup of coffee to go, we sped off toward Brentwood, and the estate of the multi-million dollar heiress, Ellen Emily Mara. Stepping under the crime scene tape, we entered her home through the front door, into the main entry hall.

"Pristine," I commented, closing my eyes and giving my inner powers free reign. "But there's certainly a bad vibe in here. I can definitely feel it, but can't really put my finger on it."

"I can," J said, looking extremely grave and one-hundred percent vampire, eyes glowing electric blue. "It certainly is a bad vibe. I believe our Ms. Mara has been abducted by a fellow vampire. One I know only too well. And he's a very bad vibe, indeed."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"You've had run-ins with this guy before?" I pumped James for information as we sped down the freeway on our way back to headquarters. So far, he hadn't uttered a single syllable since he discovered the identity of our target. "Is he some sort of nut job? Why is he a bad vibe? Come on, J, talk to me."

"He's a pure vampire," J started, "and a bit older than I am."

"But not more powerful," I stated the question as if verifying a fact.

"In some ways, yes, he is, but not completely. We have been opponents in mock combat, and I have to say in hand-to-hand altercation, we are equals. We have done physical strength and agility training together. He has what you call brute strength, but he has no special abilities."

"So between your tracking skills and my gifts, he won't even see us coming," I surmised, again making a statement out of what should have been a question.

"I'm afraid it won't be that easy. He has abducted a human woman. In my world, it is forbidden for a vampire to rise against another vampire over a human, unless, of course, they're fighting over food. Just joking. Technically, I shouldn't be involved in this, but since I'm merely assisting you, and given who the target is…. I should have no problem pleading my case, should it come to that," J explained. "He has a history of causing problems for us: Drawing attention unnecessarily. Seems as though he's doing it again. My confusion lies in why. What could an ancient vampire possibly want with a human woman?"

"Well doesn't that just make me want to autograph a mating certificate?" I threw a verbal punch at him.

"That's not what I meant," J snapped back at me, as it hit him square in the jaw. "He is a pure vampire. Our supreme edict dictates he can only share his seed with another pure vampire. Why would he seek some sort of forbidden companionship with a high profile human? Obviously, her abduction would spark worldwide speculation. Why would he risk being brought up on charges by The Council? It makes no sense. No sense whatsoever. And your sarcasm is walking a fine line between being playfully endearing and painfully annoying, by the way."

"First of all, I don't see kidnapping as seeking companionship, forbidden or otherwise, and I bet Ellen-Emily doesn't either. Secondly, Vampires being able to do whatever they want to a human without any consequences is outrageous. Barbaric," I objected. "And as for me being sarcastic? It is what it is: annoying or endearing is up to you."

I got out of the car, relieved to arrive at headquarters and end this conversation.

"_Before you go off in a huff,"_ Spirit Girl interrupted, tapping me on the shoulder, "_don't forget it wasn't all that long ago you Indians didn't give a rat's ass about the white man being abused. It's the same principle."_

"_We do now_," I hissed at her. "_It's called 'becoming civilized one-o-one.' Not that vampires are considered civilized. Not that anyone even knows there really ARE vampires. This is going to be just a whole lot of fun."_

Director Jeff Michaels was waiting for us in his office, eager to hear if we had found anything Field Ops had overlooked. He knew I had "talents," as he called them, which included a form of ESP and mental telepathy. I had adamantly put my foot down on being labeled a Psychic.

"I did manage to pick up a vibe or two," I advised, settling into one of the two overstuffed leather armchairs facing his desk. A big I-knew-you'd-find-something-those-clowns-missed grin immediately spread across his face. "We'd like to get right on it, if we can. Fan the flame while the fire is still hot. If the jet is ready, we'll grab a bag on the way to the airport and be on our way."

"It's already waiting for you. Latest sighting was this morning in Prague. Will that be your first destination?" he asked.

J, who had been uncomfortably silent since my rant, finally spoke up, throwing me a total curve ball. "Actually, we'll be going to Vienna first. Dr. Manning and I agree we may find something there."

"Certainly," the director voiced his approval. "Go with your gut, I always say. Hers is usually right on the money. I'll alert the pilots you'll be there in an hour, give or take a few."

"Thank you, sir, we'll be on our way, then," I replied, standing to make our exit. "We'll be in contact as soon as we have something. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow."

We left the director's office and walked to the elevator in strained silence. I wondered why J had suddenly opted to go to Vienna, but assumed he would share what had prompted his decision when he felt I needed to know, or when he was ready to talk to me again. For now, I'd just go with his instincts and not challenge him on it.

"_The hell you won't_," Spirit girl said, shaking her head. She knew me just a little too well.

"Okay, I'm sorry if I came off a little too bitchy," I offered, as the elevator doors closed. "I guess I'm not used to vampire justice, but, really? Being collateral damage just because you're a human is okay with you? And why Vienna?"

"Not with me, personally, Cam. It's ancient vampire law – not mine. But this time he's overstepped his bounds by a mile. The Council would think of my apprehending him as a favor to them. Saves them the trouble of dealing with the mess he's creating for us. Especially if he harms her in any fashion," J defended himself. "And I believe he's in Vienna as we speak."

"Okay, fine then. Vienna it is. And what will The Council think of you and me working together?" I posed the question. "Will I be as warmly received as you were with my boss?"

"They are aware of you, of course. They know you are my chosen one. It is the Council Elder who will perform our mating ceremony," he advised. "Our working together won't pose a problem…. once we are officially mated."

"What?" I shrieked. "What about prior to that? What about now?"

"It may be a bit of a challenge," he acknowledged, with a shrug. "Nothing we can't handle."

"No wonder you're in such a big hurry," I mused. "Are you worried about me or yourself?"

"Neither," he responded immediately. "We're both quite safe… nothing I can't take care of. No worries."

"_Word!"_ Spirit Girl practically screamed at me. "_You might want to rethink your position on a courtship and get on with eloping. Vienna is very romantic, after all."_

We arrived at the airport and were ready for take-off right on time. The flight from LAX to Vienna would take twelve hours – adding in a stop in Munich for an hour to refuel. We would be eating dinner in Austria. Right now, I had a million questions to ask J, and as far as I knew, unless he could dematerialize out of an airplane, he was a captive audience.

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?" I decided to ask if I could ask - just to be polite. "I'm probably going to ask you anyway, but I'd like to know if it's okay with you. If I ask, I mean. I've let my mouth upset you, in one form or another, a couple times already."

Again, I blushed at the memory of my wake-up tactic and subsequent spanking. J chuckled softly as he read my thought.

"Is there any way you can just turn that off? That getting-into-my-head thing?" I asked, remembering to make it sound more of a request than a demand. "It can be a little embarrassing."

"Sorry. It's not something I can turn on and off, but I can tone it down a bit," he offered. "Was that one of the questions you wanted to ask?"

"No, not exactly. I was more curious about you and your background. How did you become a vampire? I mean, what was the procedure you went through."

"It's actually a long, slow, very painful process. Think of it as a sort of blood transfusion: Your human blood drained from your body and subsequently replaced with vampire blood. Your human blood is shared among members of The Council, allowing them the ability to keep tabs on you, so to speak. They can find you anywhere because they have some of your essence inside them - similar to our blood bond. You receive blood from each the council members and, finally, from one pure vampire. The pure vampire blood is the most painful to receive. It burns the hottest, and for the longest time. If you survive the ordeal, you go through a physical changing process. You are completely recreated from the inside out."

"Sounds grueling," I responded, wrinkling up my nose before reading question number two from my mental clipboard. "Can all humans-turned-vampire switch their identities like you can?"

"You mean can they revert back to their human persona? No. I can only morph between the two because I was a very powerful wizard as a human. I was a sort of experimental prototype. They weren't sure exactly what they would have on their hands after my turning." J's eyes betrayed his secret amusement at that thought before he added, "One of the reasons Leelan had me turned. He was ninety-nine percent positive I would retain my human characteristics and abilities plus gain the advantage of achieving immortality. Of course, he didn't disclose that particular bit of speculation to The Council."

"Why? Would that have made a difference?" I asked, not getting the punch line of the private joke.

"Most assuredly. Aside from me, the rest of the created ones are just plain, simple vampires," J said, verbally giving himself a pat on the back for being special.

"Just plain, simple vampires," I parroted, shaking my head. "You say it like those four words could actually be used in the same sentence. I don't know you all that well, but I have to say, so far there is absolutely nothing plain or simple about you. You must have been one hell of a wizard, J."

He cocked his head to the side and melted me with his you-know-you-want-to-fuck-me grin. "Must have been? My dearest Cam, I still am," he taunted, placing a kiss on the tip of my nose.

And didn't that just ricochet right down to my sex?

"You should probably get some rest," J suggested, obviously not wanting to answer any more of my questions. "We'll be up most of the night in Vienna, and you didn't sleep well last night."

"I didn't? I don't even remember dreaming," I lied, trying like hell to suppress the memory of seeing myself chained to the wall in his dungeon.

He arched an eyebrow and gave me a scandalized look. "Not quite like that," he said, bulldozing right through my mental roadblock. "Much more sensual. It's actually a very caring, protective lifestyle. You're imagining pure Sadomasochism. The D/s lifestyle is a bit different generally. You wouldn't have to think of yourself as my slave, per se. More as a Submissive. Your pleasure would come from giving me pleasure. And I would reward you accordingly."

"And that's some sort of exchange? Role play?"

"No, my dear, it's not a game. It's a lifestyle. One I hope you will embrace. There are different levels you can incorporate: in the bedroom only, in the entire home only, or what is called a Total Power Exchange, which is twenty-four hours a day, no matter where you are. Given our careers, that would never work for us. What I propose is starting in the bedroom."

"So every time we're in the bedroom, I do what you tell me to do? Act like I'm yours to order around however you want?" I asked skeptically.

"Bottom line is you are mine. Completely. I own you. But I also keep you totally under my care and protection, and supply all your needs."

"So D/s is for Dominant and Submissive, and we use that form of relationship when we're in our bedroom. Or did you mean in any bedroom? That does sound much more appealing than you being my Master and me being your Slave everywhere we go - I'll give you that much, but that spanking kind of ...well it sort of..." The right words just refused to make their entrance.

"Turned you on?" J offered. "It did make you fully aroused in a very short time."

"Yeah, and that part is what really scares me," I confessed.

"I would like to introduce it to you slowly. Nothing too radical or drastic to begin with. Baby steps. You'll find yourself very comfortable with me almost immediately. You already trust me, and trust is one of the most difficult things to learn. I can tell you desire an intimate relationship with me, so while learning to please me, let me teach you how to do it my way. If you don't like it..." J hesitated for a moment, "I'll just have to try harder."

"_Why are you even giving this serious consideration?"_ Spirit Girl demanded, her righteous indignation waving like a banner.

"Anything else I should know about it?" I asked casually, totally ignoring her you-really-do-have-shit-for-brains look.

"To answer both your questions: in ANY bedroom we share, you will address me as 'Master.' And I prefer you to wear my collar. It shows ownership and respect, commitment and humility. That's all you need to know, for now. I will teach you as we go."

"You know, I think you're right. I should go to sleep for a while," I stood up to retreat to the small cabin. Wasn't this just a whole shitload of what-the-fuck to come to terms with? My head was spinning, but for some god-help-me reason, the whole thing sounded just a little too appealing. Potentially exciting. Most definitely erotic. I hesitated, my back turned toward him, before entering our sleeping quarters. "Can you see my dreams?" I asked, knowing that when sleep closed my eyes visions of his bedroom might replace the dungeon, but the chains would be just as restrictive.

J's saintly smile followed by a seductive wink answered my question.

"God help me," I muttered, stepping across the threshold, then sarcastically added, "Master."

Whether it was my spirit guide running interference or my internal radar on red alert, at least I didn't dream.

"Cam," J was gently shaking me as he whispered my name. "Cam dear, we'll be landing in Vienna in thirty minutes. You should probably wake up now."

"Half an hour? You shouldn't have let me sleep so long. I totally missed Munich," I said, lazily stretching and rolling over onto my side to face him. "I must have really been tired. Slept like the dead. No offense."

"None taken," he responded cordially. "I don't think of myself as dead, or even as one of the un-dead. We simply consider ourselves immortal. Sounds much more palatable, don't you think?"

"Very. And I was only teasing anyway. I certainly think of you as very much alive, heart- beat notwithstanding. There is absolutely no way I could even consider mating a dead man."

I excused myself and went into the bathroom to freshen up my hair and makeup, and take advantage of the facilities. A fit of giggles had me biting my lip at the thought of J in the bathroom: did he cast a reflection in the mirror? Did he shave? I knew he showered – at least he did with me, and his bodily functions worked wonderfully in the bedroom. He did eat real food and drink real beverages, soooooo…..

Another round of laughter had me clamping my hand tightly across my mouth.

"_Stop it before you get in trouble_," Spirit Girl demanded, then joined me in peals of laughter herself. "_Just quit thinking, all right?"_

_"__Well, the most commonly accepted folklore is that vampires turn into bats," _I mentallyengaged in the conversation_. "And we all know there really is bat shit…."_

Our hushed guffaws slammed on the brakes when J knocked on the bathroom door.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice verifying he was more concerned than curious. "Are you crying, Love? What's the matter?"

"I'm fine, actually," I called out cheerfully, while making a face at Spirit Girl who immediately beat feet. "I was….er….I…it was nothing," I stammered, stumbling over my words and very happy to know J was excluded from our private conversations. "Be right out."

"I'll pour us a glass of wine," he offered. "Red or white?"

"Bordeaux would be nice," I answered, stepping into the bedroom and thankfully finding it empty. "We'll be landing in Vienna at their prime dinner hour, so I think I'll go ahead and change now. Nothing fancy. Just the basic little black dress, and maybe a pair of heels. Is that okay for where you said you wanted to have dinner?"

"That would be lovely," he said, suddenly standing right behind me.

He had changed as well. He was hotter than hell rocking a charcoal gray Versace suit, black silk, open collared shirt, and a smile that out-sexed Cam Gigandet, Johnny Depp, and Channing Tatum combined. Spirit Girl wilted into a heap, fanning herself while I audibly inhaled.

"Sorry," he said, clearly, thank God for small favors, misunderstanding my gasp. "I didn't mean to startle you, Love."

"Eventually I'll get used to your moving so quickly and so quietly," I hedged, taking the proffered glass of wine, enjoying a sip, and sitting it on the vanity. "Help me with my zipper?"

I stepped into my dress and pulled it up, pushing my arms through the long, tapered sleeves, and turning my back to him. He gently lifted my hair, placed it over my shoulder, and left a trail of kisses across the back of my neck.

"My pleasure," he whispered. "And don't forget, turnabout is fair play."

Spirit Girl swooned and fainted.

I flooded my panties.

"I'll remember that," I tried to toss off as casually as I could, knowing he was hearing my thoughts.

We moved to the main cabin and prepared for landing. Once on the ground, we gathered our bags and headed for the Hotel Bristol, my favorite place to stay whenever I was in Vienna. J was familiar with the hotel, and was relieved to find it close to Restaurant Drei Husaren, his choice for our dinner. I had never been there, due to the prices being more than even the director's allowance while working in the field. With J? Money was obviously no object.

Drei Husaren was most famous for its trolleys of carefully composed hors d'oeuvres. The rolling carts featured a range of more than thirty-five items, most of which J consumed with gusto. Me? I just have a hard time putting a forkful of calves' brains on a bed of spinach with a light mustard sauce in my mouth. Even if it was the specialty of the house.

After dinner, we decided on walking back to our hotel.

"Are you feeling anything? I mean, about the rogue vampire. Can you get a sense of his having been here?" I questioned, not getting any vibes whatsoever, myself.

"Oh yes, he's definitely been here. And recently, I might add," J advised. "He didn't spend any time in the hotel or in the restaurant, but today he walked down this street, and Ms. Mara was with him."

"Impressive," I commented. "Why am I not getting anything?"

"Probably because he can mask his scent – his aura. You are more in tune with me because of my human persona. You knew, for example, when I entered the bar that evening. Had I been in pure vampire mode, you wouldn't have picked up any sense of my presence. You had no idea I was in the parking lot listening to you think. Remember? But now, even without our blood bond, you can capture my aura. Ours is different from a human, but you can feel it. Concentrate, Cam."

"You're right. There is something different there in the background, but I'm not getting anything at all from Ellen-Emily. Is he blocking that some way? Or is she off my radar because he's shielding her with his vampireness?" I asked curiously.

"There's that word again," J muttered before answering. "I'd have to say that's no doubt what's happening. Once you get a sense of him, I'm sure your inner gifts will grow stronger and come to your aid. You've never encountered a pure vampire before, so you have nothing to relate to."

"I've never encountered a vampire before – pure or otherwise, have I?" The thought sent a chill snaking down my spine, causing me to shudder visibly.

J immediately wrapped his arm around my shoulder, protectively pulling me close against him. And didn't that just make me more than a wee bit apprehensive?

"I've always been close by, Cam. You were never in harm's way. I would have never allowed any vampire to get that close to you."

J's voice was reassuring. Enough so that I relaxed and flashed an unconvincing weak smile at him.

"Maybe we should get back to the hotel. Have a nightcap in our room," I suggested, kicking up the pace a notch or two. "I'm not tired by any stretch, but on that happy little note of revelation, I think I'd like a drink. And you can go ahead and make it a double."

Once we entered the hotel lobby, we switched to making small talk in German, not that anyone might believe we were locals, just that using the local language seemed to get much friendlier results. J had no problem having my favorite ingredients for a Manhattan sent up to our suite. No sooner had I kicked off my shoes and headed toward the bedroom, the room service attendant knocked on the door with a bottle of Honey Jack accompanied by a bottle of Martini and Rossi Sweet Vermouth. J played bartender while I slipped into a pair of silk sleep shorts and an oversized, long sleeved fleece shirt, both in baby pink.

"You don't mind if I just go ahead and get comfortable, do you?" I called to him in as he assembled our drinks. "We're staying in and not expecting guests – right?"

"Of course, Love, whatever you wish. We're in for the night, and I don't even anticipate receiving a phone call."

I made my sassiest attempt to stroll like a sex kitten to the bar and slink onto the barstool across from J, who was on the other side of the marble counter. He slid my drink in front of me and sat down behind the bar, facing me. And he had, in fact, made it a double.

"There's really no reason to stay here beyond tomorrow," he started the conversation. "He's miles away. We may as well go to Prague and see if we can get a fresher scent there."

"We'll check in with Jeff, er, the director tomorrow morning. It will be evening in Washington, and they may have some updated information for us. Maybe we can skip Prague and go directly to wherever they were seen last."

"Good idea," he agreed.

I sat sipping my Manhattan, a million thoughts like bees buzzing around in a hive circulating through my mind. The last few days had been mind-blowing, to say the least. This assignment was really not all that different from the many I'd already tackled, with the one very interesting exception. Knowing it was a vampire I was chasing around the globe gave it that I've-never-seen-this-movie-or-even-read-the-book uniqueness. And didn't chasing said vampire with another drop-dead-gorgeous, sexy-as- socks-on-a-rooster, future mate, potential Dominant, in the D/s sense of the word, vampire as a partner just stamp a big red "WTF" on the rocket and launch the whole thing into orbit?

Realizing I had been lost in thought for the past who knew how long, I snapped myself back to the here and now.

"Sorry. Just trying to get a handle on things," I offered by way of apology for being such inconsiderate company.

"It's not like you left me out of the conversation," J reminded me of his special talent, with that damn grin on his face. "Do you really think I'm drop dead gorgeous and sexy as… you're kidding - right?"

"Talk about fighting unfairly! You're a lot worse than I am," I accused, the sarcasm building to a boiling point. "And look at the consequences I paid for my actions, Master Dominant. What about you, huh? Can your Submissive penalize you for getting down and dirty and using unfair advantage on her?"

"Sorry, it doesn't work like that. But, we can have a go at a bit of training, if you're up for it," he suggested seductively, keeping that just-watch-me-make-you-do-anything-I-want-you-to-d o smile firmly in place.

"Sure, why not," I tossed off, picking up my drink and letting him know in no uncertain terms I was ready for his challenge. "Are we taking this party into the bedroom then?"

I stood up and started walking toward what was now going to be our training facility.

"Excellent idea," he agreed, picking up his glass and following me.

""By the way," I stopped before I became something other than Dr. Rhyleigh Manning, CIA profiler, "does this vampire turned kidnapper have a name?"

"Yes, of course he does. In the original language, it is Imke. It very appropriately means

energetic and powerful. In modern English, you would call him Emmett."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Suit yourself," he said, eyeing the plate of untouched food his butler had placed in front of her an hour ago. "Death by starvation is a long and painful process, if that's what you have in mind. And if you're worried I might drug your food, you have my solemn word that I won't. You really do need nutrition. You haven't eaten a bite since we've been together."

"I have no intention of starving myself to death," Ellen-Emily shot back at him, "but I refuse to eat undercooked meat and cold, greasy French fries. Besides, you haven't had anything to eat either. And that wine you're drinking smells rancid. Did you get it out of a rusty bucket?"

Emmett laughed and set the glass on the table. "I assure you, it's an exceptional vintage. And please, accept my apologies – I instructed my staff to prepare an American meal for you. My gastronomic requirements are a bit more basic."

After a moment of him silently staring are her, Ellen-Emily spoke up again.

"What do you want with me anyway? If this is your home, you certainly don't need money. I have no political influence. I'm not a celebrity of any sort. What do you plan on doing with me?"

"Maybe it was just the thrill of kidnapping you," he toyed with her. "Maybe I'm just lonely and need someone to talk to."

"Yeah right," she tossed off, thinking of her own here and now.

She was a rich widow, rattling around a mansion all day; never having any visitors let alone entertaining guests; communicating with her staff by using nods and smiles rather than even bothering to speak; every day a matter of rote - going through the motion of living and wondering if she was even really alive.

He took another sip from the crystal stemware. The way the liquid coated the inside of the glass, as if it were some sort of mutant red milk of magnesia, coupled with the disgusting smell was more than Ellen-Emily could handle. She stood and walked over to the wall of windows overlooking a beautiful mountain meadow. Where exactly were they? She wondered. Switzerland, maybe? The Austrian Alps? Not too awfully far out of Vienna, she thought.

They had gone to LAX and caught a flight to London. Making a series of stops, they had landed in Paris, then Berlin, and finally Vienna. From there, they had traveled by limo. The drive hadn't taken too long, although in truth, she had dozed off during the trip, waking up when they had arrived here. Maybe they were actually in Timbuktu.

She tried to analyze this entire situation, going back to the night he had suddenly appeared at the foot of her bed. That in itself was a mystery: how had he gotten past her super high-tech alarm system? There were motion detectors that could pick up a speck of dust blowing across the floor. He had been the perfect gentleman, politely asking her to accompany him rather than telling her to cooperate, allowing her to pack a bag, get dressed, grab her passport… it made no sense. And since she'd been with him? He hadn't laid a finger or even attempted to make a move on her. He had told her not to be afraid and assured her he did not intend to harm her in any manner. Not your average, everyday kidnapper. Nope, not by any stretch.

In fact, he was clearly well educated, wealthy, and very witty. The added bonus of his incredible looks, curly dark hair, body that could stop traffic during rush hour, and beautiful blue eyes were completely out of character for a criminal, weren't they? On top of all that, there were those now-your-brain-is-completely-in-the-gutter dimples. Every time he spoke, and especially when he smiled, those little creases at the corners of his mouth caused her to flood her panties and throw I-really-should-try-to-escape right out the proverbial window.

Besides, it wasn't like she had anything better to do than globe-trot with Mr. Hot Gentleman. It beat the hell out of haunting her own house as if she had died along with her late husband, but denied entry to the great hereafter. The truth of the matter? She really did want to know exactly where she fit into the grand scheme of things. Normal people don't break into some total stranger's home and ask them to share an adventure with them. Normal kidnappers don't remind their victims that they could alert security and probably be rescued, but hoped they wouldn't do that.

"Quite an incredible view, isn't it?" he asked, suddenly standing beside her and snapping her back to the therefore-this-guy-is-probably-a-very-sexy-psycho scenario.

"Yes, it's beautiful. I've always loved the Alps," she ventured a guess, hoping for some sort of clue or confirmation of where they were.

"Really? We'll have to visit them then," he teased, not giving even the slightest hint about their location. "Do you ski?"

"Very well, actually. Shall we visit in winter, then?" she played along.

"Wonderful! I'll alert the staff at my chalet in Zermatt. You'll love the view from there. Looks at the north face of the Matterhorn."

She turned to look at him. Not just a glance, not the up and down checking him out kind of look, but she really looked at him - studied his face and tried to find some sort of answers, say written across his forehead or under his nose in place of a moustache.

He brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips, slowly bringing them to linger at her jaw.

As she looked even deeper into his hypnotic eyes, she simply asked, "Why?"

Her took her hand and led her to the sofa, sitting down closely beside her.

"Let me see if I can even begin to explain," he said, sounding as repentant as a high school jock at Saturday morning confession.

"Cam, love, wait. Sit down for a moment; we need to talk."

Something about the complete lack of levity in J's voice and expression caught the serious side of my attention. Whatever it was he had to say, he did not want it taken lightly. I pressed my finger down on the hold button, eliminating Sarcasm and Playtime abruptly from the convo. I sat down in the center of the sofa, unsure whether he would join me, remain standing, or sit in the chair facing me, but making damn sure the choice was clearly his. Demanding my undivided attention, he sat down next to me and took both my hands in his.

"I have said this before, but you need to understand this is not some kind of game – it is a way of living your life, and not something you play at when it suits you. Once we step into that room, we acknowledge and embrace who we really are – not some role we're playing. We're not actors and the bedroom isn't our stage. I am a very patient man, and I am also a patient Master, but make no mistake, in that room I am the Master. Your Master. And you will obey me."

I started to say something, and yeah, maybe it was going to be just a tad bit flippant, but I was amazed that it was actually going to scare the shit out of Spirit Girl.

_"__Don't,"_ she warned, never looking or sounding more serious. "_And please, Rhyleigh, just for once – shut the fuck up. Listen. To. The. Man." _

Heeding her warning, I decided on assuring him that I really did understand the concept.

"I get it. You're going to suggest something you want me to do…."

"I don't make suggestions."

"But what if…"

"You will obey."

"Even if I…"

"You will obey."

"And if I don't?" I cut to the chase before he could verbally strap the ball gag in my mouth.

"You will be punished."

"Spanked?" The word absolutely reeked of smart-ass.

"Sometimes a spanking would be appropriate, yes." Not good: James was struggling to maintain his cool. "The punishment is in direct proportion to the offense. Disrespect and rudeness are my two least tolerated attitudes. Your sarcastic mouth will earn you a lot of discipline I foresee, but like you, I do not back down from a challenge."

"So you plan to beat me into submission? Like, the floggings will continue until morale improves. I don't think I want any part of this," I balked. "Getting a few swats – and I thought you were just playing around, by the way - was one thing. And _I_ have said _this_ before: I don't think I could get into that kind of stuff on a regular basis. Besides, it's my nature to say what I think. Yeah, mostly it comes out sarcastic and maybe a little rude, okay, but that's me. You also said that once we go into the bedroom, we become, no, we _acknowledge and_ _embrace_ who we really are – right? Sorry, J, but what you see - and hear, is what you get. This IS who I really am."

Glowing turquoise eyes suddenly gripped my entire being and held me captive. Flicks of light flashed all around us as he unleashed the full force of his powerful presence, but his voice took on that melodious, temperate hypnotic quality again.

"No, Cam, it isn't. The real you is a frightened, vulnerable little girl, whose deepest desires are to be cared-for, protected, and loved. Yes, you have that untamed independence, that wild streak that makes you uniquely you, but that is just your way of keeping that wall you've built around yourself firmly in place. You think that by being unreachable you are also untouchable. You believe those attributes are what gives you your strength. You are wrong. And I am going to change everything about the way you think."

"And just how do you plan on doing that?" I closed my eyes, shook my head, and tossed out the question, laced with heavy doses of disbelief and sarcasm, and sprinkled with an honest to goodness burning desire to know just how in the hell he planned to accomplish his goal.

He ran his fingers lightly down my cheek, gently turning my head to look into his face. Neon eyes and that mysterious electrical current both demanded my full attention as he spoke in a hushed whisper.

"I will reach deep down inside you. And I am going to touch your very soul."

The gasp that escaped my lips was nearly inaudible, but it was all the signal James had been waiting for. He stood, never letting go of my hands, and pulled me slowly forward. He stepped across the threshold, stopping just inside what an hour ago had simply been the doorway to a hotel bedroom. Who would have ever thought it was actually the portal into a whole, new world.

Pausing in the doorway for a brief moment, J's demeanor shifted gears dramatically. His eyes glowed in a much more intense, penetrating luminescence. His stance took on a subtle, more rigid quality – his back even straighter than usual, something I thought impossible. He cocked his head to the side, smiled, and dropped my hands before turning and walking into the bedroom.

He stood in the middle of the room, somehow willing my eyes to remain locked on his face. His words swirled around inside my head like flower pedals in a whirlpool. At first, I wondered why he let go of my hands instead of pulling me along with him. It suddenly became as clear as a mountain spring in April. Now I understood. Really understood.

Submission must be voluntary.

As I stared at him through the open door, he slowly extended his hand toward me, palm up. His facial expression was a mixture of love and promise, desire and need, with a whole shitload of come-to-Master stirred into the brew. And what d' ya know? My feet just started walking.

The smile on his face when I placed my hand in his made the hundred mile trek worth every step it took to get there. The electrical force shimmered and crackled around us, creating a psychedelic web of pinpoint lights, encasing us in the room. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his hand under my chin lifting my face to look into his.

"Mine."

One simple word was all he said, but that simple word spoke volumes. It declared ownership, belonging, an assurance of giving and caring, of protection, yet the darker connotation promised discipline, training, and pain while demanding respect, obedience, and surrender.

Submission. Complete, unquestioning, unconditional.

As I stood riveted in place, transfixed by his powerful aura, I felt him possessing me, taking control of my mind, my emotions, my entire being. I closed my eyes, giving in to it. Surrendering my will. Freely giving my entire self to his control.

"Mine," he declared again.

"Yours," I responded, never meaning anything more sincerely in my entire life.

He stepped back and grabbed my shirt, pulling it over my head.

"Turn around," he instructed gently.

I immediately turned one-eighty. No hesitation – no questions.

His hands brushed my shoulders, down my back, and reached around to cup my breasts, tenderly caressing them before he continued down my stomach, resting his hands on my hips. A moment later, a pair of pink silk sleep shorts were pooling at my feet. Bowing my head was a natural reaction to standing naked before him, but it was apparently something he liked.

"Mine," he purred in my ear, nipping on my earlobe from behind me.

Once again, his hands found my breasts.

"Mine," he whispered, kneading them gently.

"Mine." He pinched my nipples.

"Mine." His hands ghosted down my torso.

"Mine," he hissed as his hand slipped between my legs. "Every inch of you is mine. Every thought is mine, every breath. I own you. You are my property; you belong to me and nothing belongs to you. Your lips are mine, your breasts and nipples are mine, your pussy is mine, and your orgasms are mine. You will never touch my property unless I tell you to, and then you will do so when and in the manner I want it done."

He removed his hand from between my legs and walked around me.

"This is how you will greet me, unless I instruct you otherwise. When I walk through that door, I expect you to be naked, kneeling, head bowed, knees spread to the width of your shoulders. Do it now."

I dropped to my knees, assuming the pose he had been so specific in describing. His fingers stroked my cheek.

"In this room you will address me as 'Master' and refer to yourself as 'she' or 'her.' Do you understand? Answer me."

"Yes…Ma.. Master," I stammered, the words tripping and falling over each other as if they were wearing shoes that were just way too big.

"Go lay on the bed. On your stomach."

His tone had only the slightest trace of the human James around the edges. I got up, hurried to the bed, and laid face down.

"Spread your legs, I want to see what's mine."

Now even those slight hints of the human persona were fading. Fast. I bit my tongue and parted my legs.

"Mmm, I think you can do better than that," he said, walking toward me. "Wider."

Gritting my teeth, I pushed my ankles farther apart. The cool air teased my sex - cold air blowing against it causing my body to heat up in protest.

"I do not make requests," he reminded me, his voice clearly showing authority. "And I don't like having to repeat myself. You are not my child, and I do not count to ten waiting for you to obey. You are a woman who is surrendering herself to me. I will be lenient this one time because this is all new to you. Now….. Spread. Your. Legs."

I slid my feet as far apart as they would go. A myriad of emotion swept through my mind and body: humiliation and embarrassment, for sure, but why was exposing myself to him in such a slutty fashion getting me so wet? My breathing became ragged, chills snaked up and down my spine, and wasn't I just a little bit too turned on by the whole thing?

"Beautiful," he whispered in my ear. "Now, lift your ass off the bed and get on your knees."

As I began to rise to get back into a kneeling position, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pushing my head down on the bed and holding it there.

"Just your ass. Keep your head and shoulders on the bed."

Lying on your stomach with your legs wide open is one thing. Lifting my pussy in the air was quite another. I had done the dirty doggie style on occasion, but to just assume the position and hold it? Word! This was really pushing my buttons. All of them.

I voiced my gentle protest in the form of a whimper and lack of movement, neither of which went unnoticed. His hand brushed across my ass, gave it a light rub, then drew back and slapped it soundly.

"Ouch!" I complained. "Okay, I'm doing it. This is me being cooperative."

His hand grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back so I could see his face.

"I don't want your cooperation. You will obey me. That is not an option," he said calmly, but I knew I had pushed a few of his buttons as well.

He let go of my hair, pushed my head back down, and thrust his arm under my hips, lifting them into the air, and setting me on my knees. I began to tremble. He wasn't overly angry, but you could definitely say he was just barely happy.

Stepping back from the bed, he gave the order I was hoping not to hear. The one I was dreading the most.

"Touch yourself," he said. "Reach between your legs and run your finger down your pussy. Feel how wet you are for me."

After only a nanosecond of hesitation, I did as he instructed. We both knew I was practically dripping - no surprise there. And touching myself screamed the confirmation.

"That's right… like you would want me to touch you. Mmmm….. so wet. Press your finger against your sex. Good…. Now roll your hips. My fingers are touching MY sex and MY sex is getting wetter. Do you feel me touching you? Answer me."

"Yes…. I feel …. she feels… you…Master," I choked out.

"Slowly circle your sex with your finger. Slowly. Now slide your fingers down your slit. Rub it…slowly. That's right…"

I was shaking like I had a palsy, and dripping like my core had sprung a leak. I couldn't believe what I was doing. Just could not wrap my head around masturbating for him, and god help me, I was enjoying it. What was wrong with me? Had I gone completely insane?

Spirit Girl had retreated to the closet, sitting in the dark with her eyes clamped shut and her hands over her ears. Unlike my guide, the five Elements didn't come to me unless I summoned them. Or unless they thought I was in imminent danger. I quickly shifted my mind back to James. Water was always quick to come to my defense, and we certainly didn't need a tidal wave crashing through the bedroom door.

Should I throw on the brakes? Stop this runaway train before it was too late? The truth was I couldn't have stopped if he had told me to… well, maybe then, but only then. Thankfully, he didn't and locking all my gifts securely back in the safe, I felt the orgasm building inside me. Spiraling around, gripping me in its claws.

"You want to cum, don't you?" His voice had regained its gentle quality. "Tell me. Do you want to cum for me? That would please me. And your only desire is to please me, isn't it?"

This time I had no problem responding. "Yes, Master, it would please her if she could give you pleasure. And yes, she wants to cum….. for you."

"Do you feel my fingers touching MY pussy? How badly do you want to give me MY orgasm? Tell me, my little Submissive."

"Yes, Master. She feels you touching her. She is on fire. She can't… control it….much longer. She would.. like to.. cum for you.. very soon."

"Mmm, very well, then. Cum for me. Now."

I closed my eyes, let go of any shred of remaining inhibition, and exploded. Literally. Juices poured from my core. My body jerked as wave after wave of orgasmic spasms ripped through me. I fell forward on the bed, writhing against my own hand. His hand. Breathing reduced to ragged gasps and heavy panting.

I fought to regain control of my wits as my body betrayed me: I wasn't in control – HE was. James, the vampire, the human wizard, or J, the sexy guy I was falling in love with? I didn't know.

Whomever he was, all I knew… all I needed to know….. he was my Master.

And at that moment, I was completely surrendered and fully submitted to him.

He sat on the bed and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I was shivering, eyes still tightly closed. He kissed my lips softly at first, then deepening as he claimed my mouth. Never before had I ever felt so close to someone. Never had I ever felt so connected, so a part of them. Never. In that moment, I knew I had found my true self; found the place where I belonged. He was right – I wholeheartedly acknowledged and embraced who I really was.

The tears I had been fighting so hard to keep inside easily overpowered the trace of strength I had left. I gave in, sobbing because I was the frightened, vulnerable little girl J said I was. And because I was finally going to be cared for, protected, and loved.

"Look at me," he said, speaking in a hushed whisper.

When I opened my eyes, he smiled. Then he uttered two simple words. Two words that suddenly took on an entirely new, deeper meaning, more significant than any other compliment I could have been given. I had earned the ultimate praise a Master bestows on his Submissive.

He kissed me gently, parting my lips with his tongue, and softly whispered against my mouth.

"Good girl."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"I think it was your hair," he said, a school-boyish smile accompanied by a deep crimson blush on his face.

_And didn't those dimples just add the finishing touch on it all? _Ellen-Emily thought to herself before speaking aloud. "My hair? You kidnapped me because of my hair?"

"I've always had a weakness for redheads," Emmett confessed. "Always."

"And how many other redheads have you kidnapped?" she pressed on.

"Technically, I didn't kidnap you. I asked you very politely to accompany me, and you did. I've made no demands on anyone to get you back, nor do I intend to. We're simply on holiday together." The blush faded, but the dimpled smile stayed effectively in place.

"I suppose that, technically, you did ask me, and you were very polite I must say. If we're just on a vacation together, I should have left my staff some sort of note for them not to worry. I'm sure they'll never think I just decided to take off for Europe in the middle of the night," Ellen-Emily protested playfully. "So… back to my hair…. How did you know I had red hair? Surely a prince - or whatever you are - in some country on the other side of the globe had no way to know about me."

"Actually, I had a business relationship with your late husband," he confessed. "He had a picture of you on your wedding day on his desk. You were the most beautiful bride I'd ever seen. The way your hair was pulled up on your head, with those little wisps curling at your neck and framing your face was so elegant. You're quite a beautiful woman, Ellen."

"Thank you. I'm very flattered, but I find it hard to believe you would sneak into my home and invite me to vacation with you based on a picture you saw. What if I had changed my hair color? What would you have done then?" she questioned.

"But I knew you hadn't," he admitted, again blushing deeply. "I've been watching you since the funeral. Making sure you were okay. Since the moment I saw that picture, I've been determined to make your acquaintance."

"Well then, don't you think you should introduce yourself? You seem to know quite a bit about me, and I don't even know your name," Ellen teased, realizing she, in fact, did not know who he was.

"Please forgive me," he said, flashing those panty-dropping dimples again. "In my country, my name is Imke. The English, or I guess in your case the American version is Emmett. Very pleased to meet you, Ellen." He took her hand and gently kissed the back of it.

"Likewise, Emmett," she replied, adding a coquettish smile and nod. "So, am I to understand that any time I wish to return home, you won't try to stop me? I mean, if we're simply on holiday together."

Emmett took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. After a long, slow exhale, he spoke again.

"I wouldn't physically manhandle you, no. But I would try any and all forms of persuasion to change your mind."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Ellen admitted, confusion evident in her voice. "Why do you want me with you? Of all people in the world, most of whom would be jumping at the opportunity to be with you – why me?"

"Like I said, I've been watching you. You fascinate me. You're charming, beautiful, witty, intelligent, the list goes on and on. You're the woman I've been looking for and never found," he admitted sheepishly. "And then, there's your incredible red hair."

Ellen shook her head and flashed a warm flirtatious smile at him.

"If we're going to be traveling, I really should contact my personal secretary so they won't be calling out the militia. I'd hate to be snatched off into some interrogation room in an airport somewhere. Assuming we're going to continue traveling by air, that is."

"Actually, we're going to be taken by helicopter to my yacht this evening. My crew is ready for us. I much prefer to travel under the radar, and I fear we may have drawn too much unwanted attention already. As for contacting your staff, I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't do that."

As he had done when he asked her to accompany him on this adventure, the polite seemingly cordial invitation was laced with an ominous undertone. It sounded as though she was being given an option, but in reality? Probably not.

"That will only cause more speculation and draw more of the attention you're trying to avoid," she argued, albeit gently.

"I believe my chef has prepared a meal more to your liking," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "You must be famished by now."

"I'd rather be fed some answers than food," she muttered as she followed behind him to the dining room.

Ever the gentleman, Emmett pulled her chair out, and once she was seated, slid her up to the table with ease. The attendant sat a luscious chef's salad in front of her, complete with boiled egg, ham, turkey, cheeses, and a creamy ranch dressing.

"I hope you find the salad more palatable than my last feeble attempt," he said, unleashing the full force of his dimples on her.

"This is delicious," she said, spearing another forkful and falling completely under their spell.

The more she ate, the more she realized just how hungry she really was. When she finally laid the fork down and sat back in her chair, the salad was nothing more than a few pieces of lettuce and a couple shreds of cheese.

"Oh my," she quipped, "I attacked that salad like a cannibal at a missionary conference. I must have been even more hungry than I thought."

The dimples faded as his entire demeanor shifted into serious mode.

"The helicopter will be here momentarily. Since you posed the question, I will give you the option: do you want to stay with me, or…..do you want to go home, Ellen? Really?" he asked softly, the pleading tone betraying his hope she would answer in the negative.

Ellen searched his face for any sign of insincerity and came up empty. She smiled, then giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Not really. No. There's really nothing for me there - just too much time and money, and no interesting way to spend either. I'll stay with you, Emmett. Let's have our holiday."

Emmett abruptly swept her up into his arms and swung her around. "And let's make it the adventure of a lifetime."

J hummed softly as he rocked me on his lap. A lullaby. I finally calmed down and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to fall apart like that," I offered the feeble apology. "I'm not the fragile, given-to-tears type, but for some reason I felt so emotional. I just couldn't…."

"You did splendidly, love," he assured me, cutting me off mid-sentence. "There is nothing to be sorry for. As a matter of fact,Iam quite pleased with your grasp of submission, so far. In time, your fears will subside completely and you'll have a full understanding of what being a submissive truly means. But that does take time."

"I'm not really afraid, per se, especially not of you. It's more about me being surprised by my own feelings: the way my body just responded without any hesitation; how I really like the idea of the whole D/s relationship. It was… _is_ mindboggling. I don't think I've ever been so turned on," I confessed, blushing a deep crimson. "But you knew that."

J smiled and hugged me. "I love you, Cam. Never forget that. I've waited several lifetimes for you, and for…this… both definitely worth the wait."

His kiss backed up his words and then some.

"Now, be my good girl and stand up. Stay still. Arms and hands at your side. I want to look at you," he instructed, setting me on my feet and standing, himself.

He slowly circled around me, scrutinizing every inch from all angles. I closed my eyes in hopes of maintaining my composure, but stood there trembling under his silent gaze.

"Look at me, Cam. Keep your eyes on mine. I am committing to memory every detail of what is mine. A Master must know his submissive's body as well as he knows his own. He must know her thoughts, her desires, her fantasies. There can be no secrets of any sort between us. No second guessing. I need to know exactly how and where to touch you. What you merely like and what makes you come completely undone. I need to know every little facet of what makes you who you are."

As if he were a blind man reading a novel in Braille, his fingers touched every part of me as our eyes stayed locked together.

J's eyes.

Vivid, neon-blue, electric eyes.

Eyes that could melt me into a puddle with a glance. Eyes that penetrated right through my façade of being untouchable and unreachable. Hell, he had those walls tumbling down like they were the victim of an eight-point-o magnitude quake.

I could feel his eyes on me. Feel them exposing all my secrets. My inner desires. Strengths and weaknesses. Nothing was hidden from his eyes. The feeling was euphoric. I felt dizzy and lightheaded as he claimed again every part of me. Claimed what was his.

Spirit Girl, who had been hiding in her closet, stepped out and gave me a hug, nodding her approval. Her smile had a calming effect on me and on the Five Elements who were bristling at having been kept in confinement. We were in harmony. In balance.

As he appraised me, memorized my physical self, I felt the warmth coiled in my core expand. The heat radiated outward, spreading throughout my entire being. The sensation of icy hot was making every cell in my body come alive. I was finally truly alive, but completely under his control.

Submission.

Sweet surrender.

The end of a long journey.

And J was the gold at the end of the rainbow.

He stopped circling and stood facing me as he slowly removed his own clothes. We faced each other, naked. He pulled me into a tight embrace, then began running his hands down my back, across my ass, through my hair.

"And you will learn exactly what I need. What pleases me. Your happiness will be found in giving me pleasure. In doing my bidding. In serving me. But, our relationship will also be one based on respect for each other. And although it may be necessary to physically punish you from time to time, I will never abuse or mistreat you. You are under my care and protection."

I followed J's example and slowly walked around him, careful to note every detail, every curve, every scar. My photographic memory would once again be a definite asset. When I had committed everything physical about him to memory, I stood in front of him, facing him as before.

"Would my good girl like to pleasure her Master?" he purred, backing toward the bed.

"Mmm, yes, she would," I responded in a breathy whisper, causing my spirit guide to grab The Elements and hastily retreat into her safe place, quietly closing the door between us.

He slid onto the bed still facing me and stretched out, reclining against the pile of pillows stacked against the headboard. I climbed on the bed, crawling catlike up between his legs, and feeling very feline in the process. My fingertips trailed lightly up his legs and ran up and down his inner thighs. The soft moan that escaped his lips confirmed his enjoyment of what I was doing.

My fingers gently stroked the length of his fully aroused shaft, playfully circling the underside of the head. The soft moan was a bit louder now, causing chills to snake up and down my spine. I bent my head down, allowing my hair to cascade forward as I took him into my mouth. His cock twitched in reply as hot and hard said "how-d'ya-do?" to hot and wet.

As his arousal slid in and out of my mouth, he fisted two handfuls of my hair tightly, holding my head in place. Even with both my hands placed one on top of the other around the base of J's cock, there was plenty left to more than fill my mouth. And didn't that just push me to the edge?

I had begun a slow, steady rhythm, in….. then out slowly….. and slowly in again. The temptation to hurry gnawed at me, but I suppressed the urge. Slow and steady….. in and out… deeper… hotter… wetter. I realized I was as wet between my legs now as I had been while touching myself. Giving him pleasure was truly giving me pleasure as well. My tongue danced around the head of his cock… in slowly….. out slowly…. in.

He arched his back, thrusting toward me. I sucked harder, tongue teasing playfully. J growled, deep and feral, ending in a roar - my reward as J released. Hot, spicy sweet essence of my Master coated my throat. I swallowed as he continued to cum, careful not to lose anything he gave.

After a few moments, he relaxed, pulling me up to lie beside him. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, and smiled.

"Good girl," he whispered. "I am very pleased. And you shall be rewarded accordingly."

He rolled me onto my back, and hovered on all fours above me. His lips brushed against mine before giving me a very deep, very loving kiss. His mouth moved down my neck, tongue licking playfully as he went. His hands cupped my breasts as his tongue flicked across my nipples. I arched my back, pushing into him as his mouth greedily suckled my nipples. And the hungry baby boy had me squirming as my core literally sprung a leak.

"I love the way you get so wet for me," he murmured, as his mouth travelled south. "You taste like the finest mead. And I absolutely love mead."

His fingers ran up and down my lower lips for a moment before his tongue parted my slit. I cried out as he pushed two fingers inside me while his tongue teased my sex. My orgasm was intense and immediate. And he relentlessly did not stop his ministrations. My body jerked as I thrashed about on the bed and continued to pour out a fountain of my honey.

He wrapped his arm around each of my thighs, spreading my legs wider and pinning me down. My hips bucked as some wild animal instinct took over. I screamed out his name, unable to think straight as I climaxed over and over again. Wave after wave of orgasm battered me, leaving me feeling like a drown person who had washed up on shore.

As I lay panting, tingling from head to toe and burning with an even deeper desire, I felt his magnificent cock enter me. Slowly. Steadily. Until I was filled with him. Then his hips began the motion. Set the rhythm of our intimate dance. At first, I lay there, letting him fill me, then feeling the emptiness as he slid out and the fullness as he stretched me with his thick cock to fill me again.

Slowly my body began to mirror his movements. We were in perfect sync – perfect harmony and balance. Like a Virtuoso playing his perfectly tuned Stradivarius, our lovemaking was a symphony of erotic composition. I opened my eyes and glazed into his, letting myself and any inhibition go. This time J and I rode the waves together, floating in the whirlpool of orgasm, spinning out of control and whirling through liquid space.

I had found my true self, and facing the truth about whom and what I was had a euphoric effect on me. I fell asleep in his arms, my Master's arms, holding me tightly against him.

Safe.

Protected.

Loved.

The words of The Prophet echoed in my head….

"….and then to sleep with a dream of the beloved of your heart, and a song of praise upon your lips….."

_We were back in the dungeon again. The shackles on my wrists attached to chains securing me to the cold wall made of stone. J, the ancient vampire wizard, was standing in front of me, slapping a riding crop against the palm of his hand. _

_"__It's not like this, Cam. Remember?" he said to me, shaking his head and grinning._

_"__Right. I, umm… forgot," I stumbled over my words. "I just have this image… but you're right. It's not like this in the least."_

_"__Come back to the playroom with me. Let me show you more about pleasuring each other," he coaxed, his voice hypnotic and soothing. _

_I took his hand and walked with him through an open door. We entered his bedroom at the estate in Carmel. Candles flickered as the aroma of a spicy incense filled the room. I felt lightheaded and held on to him to maintain my balance. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly for a moment before pulling back and brushing his lips against mine. A lustful smile accompanied the soft glow of his electric blue eyes, letting me know I was about to be breakfast in bed. _

_He swung me up into his arms, and carried me to the massive bed. Still holding me, he climbed on before he placed me in the center and straddled my legs. Slowly he slid the thong I was wearing down my legs, spreading them as he tossed the piece of lace over his shoulder._

_The moment his tongue touched my sex, I had the most exquisite orgasm. I gasped…._

…loudly enough to wake me from my dream.

_"__Oh. My. God,"_ Spirit Girl and I exclaimed in unison and shared a bewildered look.

"Did I just have a wet dream?" I thought to myself. "What am I? Some twelve year-old boy?"

Opening my eyes, I confirmed I was alone. Thank you, God, for small favors. After finishing my bathroom chores, I slipped on a robe and went to find J. As soon as I opened the bedroom door, I saw him sitting on the sofa watching the morning news on television.

He smiled and patted the place next to him, inviting me to join him. I took two steps toward him, then abruptly stopped.

His eyes locked onto mine, questioning my hesitance.

Flashing my most wicked smile, I stepped slowly backward, across the threshold. Back into the bedroom.

The playroom.

"Good morning, Master," I teased, as a ripple of black satin pooled at my feet.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"I think I've created a monster," J said, chuckling as he tightened his arms around me.

We were lying like pretzels, basking in post-coital bliss as I let my fingers do the walking down his six-pack and playfully stroked his dick.

"That's a definite possibility," I confirmed, attempting to sound as though I was earnestly considering the validity of his comment before giving him a flirtatious wink.

"You little minx," he chastised, throwing the blankets off both of us and getting out of bed. "We really do need to get up and be on our way. There was nothing on the news this morning about our favorite kidnapping, but that could mean anything. My senses are telling me they're traveling by water now. And he does have a yacht on the Arabian Sea, docked in Dubai."

"Well that's a break for us, then," I said, getting up and following him to the bathroom. "Wanna take a shower with me?"

"Why is it a break?" he questioned, then added, "Yes, by all means, let's shower - and I do mean just that - shower. Enough playtime for now."

"Yes, Master," I whined sarcastically, sighed, and rolled my eyes. "Your submissive-monster will obey."

Before I even noticed him moving, I felt a stinging smack on my backside.

"Ouch," I protested, rubbing my ass and checking in the mirror to confirm his bright pink handprint on one cheek.

"Your sarcasm is annoying, and that gesture you do with your eyes is most irritating. Please refrain from using either of them, unless you don't mind the consequences."

"Sorry," I mumbled, stepping under the warm spray.

"Apology accepted. Now, explain why Emmett and Ellen-Emily traveling by water is a break," he requested as he poured a handful of gel and soaped up my back. "I'm not following your thought process."

"Water is one of the Five Elements," I reminded him with a smug grin. "And I communicate with them very well. Once we get to the Arabian Sea, Water will help us find them."

After our shower, we alerted the pilots we would be heading for Dubai, checked out of the hotel, and took a taxi to the private hangar at the airport. Diplomatic privilege being what it is, we were in the air without a hitch. I had been to Dubai several times, and apparently so had J. His take and mine were completely different, however. What I described as intriguing and romantic, he viewed as overstated and glitzy. Having been born and brought up in the country, I loved the big city atmosphere. J was from a completely different world, and placed a high value on his space and privacy. A vampire wizard would do that, wouldn't he?

"I would be most appreciative if you would share exactly how you control the elements," J suggested as soon as we were at cruising altitude, sipping a glass of mimosa. "I did try to observe you calling a circle together once, many years ago. I believe Toots was instructing you on how to bring them all to you. She gave a warning glance in my direction, completely blowing away my delusion of being cleverly hidden and undetected. Needless to say, I made a hasty departure."

"An ancient wizard was afraid of my little Indian grandmother?" I teased. "I would think even a plain ole generic vampire wouldn't have been scared off by a mere glance in their direction."

"Ah, but that's because you knew her only as your loving grandmother. I knew her as a very powerful spiritualist, and believe me when I tell you she made even the most formidable of opponents think twice before challenging her." J was wide-eyed, doing the bobble-head-on-your-dash.

I found his expression entirely too hilarious and broke out in peals of laughter.

"Excuse me, love, but would you enlighten me as to what is so outrageously humorous?" he demanded, causing me to snort in a most unladylike fashion, which in turn had both me and Spirit Girl laughing all the harder. "Oh, for the love of… Cam….stop it this instant!"

Biting my lower lip, I managed to calm down, at least enough to nod in the affirmative. After swallowing a couple times, clearing my throat, and mentally ordering my spirit guide to stifle it, I was finally able to speak.

"Sorry, Sweet Love, but the visual on that was just too funny: you, hiding in the bushes, then running at warp speed ng in the bushes then taking off for the adow, the moon full and the sky alive with stars. We had drawn the circle and for the hills when the old Indian shaman puts the mojo-eye on you. It was just so…I thought it was…. Oh forget it!" I said, giving up on my futile attempt to explain my outburst. "But really, J, you need to lighten up a little. Besides, technically we're not in the bedroom now."

"Of course, you're right. Now it's my turn to apologize. But please continue – tell me about your lesson. Do you recall that experience?"

"I remember that lesson well: Toots and I in the meadow, the moon was full and the sky alive with stars. It was a summer night: really warm and sort of humid. We had drawn the circle and placed the symbols representing the elements on the five points of the star. Toots and I stepped into the center of the circle and joined hands. And, come to think of it, I do remember her wrinkling up her nose and giving a serious look at something that had distracted her. I seem too remember wondering what she was getting sideways about."

J gave me a will-you-just-get-on-with-it-already look, prompting me to get back to the original request. "We joined hands facing each other, closed our eyes, and just sort of zoned out, I guess you could say. Kind of out-of-body-ish, if you get my drift. Anyway, we recited an incantation to call each element to join our circle, and they did. I remember Toots being so pleased that I had an affinity for all five. She said most exceptionally gifted ones are able to call maybe two, three tops. Having just called all five of them on my very first try, I was ecstatic. Of course."

"Of course," J echoed. "So the incantation gets their attention, but they only respond to special invocation, or I guess I should say, to specific invocators."

"Very specific invocators," I clarified. "There's a sort of bloodline connection in my lineage that skips a generation then resumes. Toots said her grandmother was gifted but her mother wasn't, just like my mom wasn't but I am. So I guess if the tradition holds, my daughter wouldn't have any special talents but my granddaughter would. Interesting, don't you think?"

"Yes, quite," J said, sounding rather distraught. "So any hope I had for you teaching me the art of controlling with the elements is tenuous. It's an affinity you are either born with or you're not. It's part of your basic nature."

"I think so. And it's not really controlling the elements as much as communicating with them. There's no way I could stop a hurricane or part the sea, although I guess that has been done before. I can only call them to me and ask favors of them."

"I suppose it wouldn't do me a bit of good to learn the invocation," J surmised. "They wouldn't recognize my voice, so to speak."

"I would have absolutely no idea how to teach you anyway. There were tribal elders who could call the elements to them, but they had their own methods. Mine just came to me naturally. It just happened. I somehow knew what to say and how to say it," I admitted with a shrug.

"I supposed I can rely on you to work your talents without my help," J commented, without even the slightest trace of any happy-happy-joy-joy in his voice.

"So tell me," I said, turning to face him and changing the subject entirely before he could go all poor, poor, pitiful me, "were you born with a Dominant's nature? You said you had extensive training, but that just perfected the inborn aptitude, didn't it? You wouldn't have done training if you hadn't already had a predisposition, right? Or is that just a course in Vampire one-o-one?"

"You certainly have a knack for asking questions," he said, chuckling. "Let me answer them in order: yes I was, yes it did, no I wouldn't have, and no."

"Very funny," I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

And didn't that just get me a would-you-really-like-another-spanking-little-girl ? look.

"As it is with humans," J continued, happy that his warning look had been duly noted, "that compulsion is rare. Although human males tend to be somewhat controlling by nature, they lack that specific trait that a Dominant inherently has. In vampires, it is almost nonexistent, for obvious reasons."

"Obvious?" I questioned, my interest in full tell-me-more mode.

"Remember most vampires are created. We inherit traits from those who contribute to our transition. In my case, as I told you, I was very powerful in my human form so most all of my intrinsic characteristics stayed intact. Including my innate Dominant personality. Given that as a vampire I was much stronger physically, and more intimidating, I had to be taught how to use both those strengths without causing real harm to a submissive. As you know firsthand, discipline by its very nature is supposed to be painful when administered, and it affects both the physical and mental state of the recipient. Training is essential to even those with the strongest Dominant gene."

"You certainly must have been the ideal student. And I'm sure you were the valedictorian of your class," I complimented him.

"Thank you, but we are just beginning. You cannot yet even fathom what is in your future with me," he said, eyes glowing and the electric current humming softly all around us.

"Before you give me a sample of what that might be, I'd love to hear about your training. If you were already a Dominant by nature, your teacher only needed to fine-tune your performance – right? Just like Toots did with me. And I assume your instructor was a vampire…." I left the question suspended in the air between us.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, Master Alex is a vampire. So is Mistress Jayne. His sister, before you ask."

My smile and wink served as a "thank you," as well as an unspoken promise to curb the questions.

"I had been a vampire for about fourteen years when I met Master Alex. He knew Leelan and took a liking to me. At that time, I had no idea what he was. We became friends and after he felt comfortable with me, he asked if I had ever given any thought to the whole Dominant – Submissive lifestyle. I hadn't. It was not a subject that was ever the topic of conversation around the dinner table." J was obviously pleased at this having made a joke.

"That was good," I complimented his attempt to be funny. "Actually, it was very good. So he got you thinking about it."

"Yes. He planted the seed, but it fell on very fertile ground. I had always been much more into being in charge of getting something done than being the one actually performing the task. I also enjoyed the ability to make someone desire to do as I asked. It wasn't a power thing. I had plenty of physical strength as well as mental abilities. It was more of a need to be all things to a person who wanted and needed to serve to someone."

"So, people are actually born with these character traits. You were born a Dom, and I was born a submissive. Interesting," I commented, fully meaning it was, indeed, fascinating. "I can honestly say I never thought of myself as needing to serve someone… anyone."

"But you are happy and feel fulfilled when you know you have pleased me," J interjected.

"Yes. Surprisingly enough, I am," I confessed, causing Spirit Girl to give herself a V-8 slap.

"Anyway, when my training began, I was still a virgin, and my first slave was as well. We learned together to embrace our true nature and how to interact with each other, both sexually and as Master and slave. I was taught to see everything I did as a Dom through the eyes of my slave. Learn to feel what she felt. To be firm, but not unfeeling. Loving and kind while at the same time completely in charge."

"Sounds intense," I said, shaking my head.

"It took three years," J advised, sounding as if the memory was fresh in his mind. "Three years of perfecting the art of Domination and becoming the proper protector and owner of slaves."

"You keep using the term 'slave.' Can't say I like that much. Sounds too, I don't know, mean. Cruel. The North and The South. I'm glad I am your submissive. That has a much more sensual connotation. In fact, I seriously like the sound of the word. I don't think I could ever be called your slave."

"It's semantics, really. But submissive is fine, love. I think of you that way, not as a slave in the context you're using. As you know, in order for it to be true submission, it must be voluntary. The slavery you refer to wasn't voluntary in the least."

"So although one is born a submissive, they must voluntarily act upon their nature by finding and hooking up with a Dom."

"You certainly have a way with words, but essentially, yes. You could have gone your entire life without ever becoming a Dominant's sub, but your life would have been lacking. You would have missed your true happiness."

I took J's hand and gave it a squeeze. "You might just be right. I have to admit, I've never been happier. But I want to hear about your first sub. What was she like? What was her name?"

"She was a lovely young girl named Jenay. She was human," J stated, and immediately held up his hand to hold off any further questions from me. "Master Alex and Mistress Jayne both recruited perspective slaves. Some would be turned over to a training master and others would become blood slaves – used strictly for giving blood for feeding purposes. Jenay was given to me as my slave during my training."

"As I said, we were both virgins. Master Alex put us together and literally ordered us to have sex with each other, which we did. It was awkward, exciting, terrifying, intense, a whole myriad of emotions, but we got through it and began our training in earnest. First, I learned how to discipline: how to give a proper spanking, how to use a whip, a riding crop, and canes. All forms of punishment. After that, I was instructed in the sexual side of the BDSM relationship. I learned how and when to make love, to have sex, or to fuck hard - three very different aspects of the same basic act."

"No wonder it took you three years," I threw in my two cent worth, shaking my head in awe of what I was hearing. "That's a lot to master – pardon the pun. So what happened to Jenay after you graduated?"

"She was never mine to keep; she was 'on loan,' so to speak. I was her Training Master, so my collar was removed when she was given back to Master Alex, her Permanent Master. I'm not sure where she ended up – I never saw her again."

"Okay, wait a minute," I verbally threw on the brakes as Spirit Girl began shaking her head in the negative. "Training Master, Permanent Master, what the hell does that mean? You are so not training me to hand me off to some other Dom…no way. Right? Because I won't do it."

J looked at me with frustration written all over his face. "Cam, I have already told you that you are my chosen one. I am your Master, even if only in the bedroom, and you are mine. My property. I own you. I am training you, yes, but rest assured you are mine. I am your Permanent Master. Never question that again."

And there was absolutely no doubt in my mind he meant every word he had just said. Especially the warning about bringing it up again. Something I would never do again. Ever.

"Okay then, thank you," I mumbled, then spoke up. "Explain the 'collar' thing. I know what they are and what they look like. I did read "The Submissive Trilogy," after all."

"You told me in a human relationship a man asks a woman to marry him and presents her with a ring, which tells everyone of their commitment to each other. In a D/s relationship, it goes miles deeper than that. A collar signifies ownership for the Dom who offers it and a confirmation of surrender for the submissive who accepts it. It also means they accept that the relationship is forever, which is more meaningful than a wedding ring to the average human. More than half of human marriages end in divorce. A D/s relationship is far deeper and more committed than a regular marriage. A collar is almost never removed."

"Vampires are all about forever, aren't they?" I asked rhetorically.

"It has nothing to do with my being a vampire," J clarified. "A D/s relationship is the same regardless of what you are. It would be exactly the same if I were human or you were a vampire. But yes, the vampire mating is forever. And, I guess, coupled with the D/s element, it's very permanent."

"Sounds like we'll be doubly locked together for all eternity," I mused. "Or at least for as long as I live anyway. So how many collars have you given out?"

"Only one, and that was a completely different relationship than ours. Please don't ask for details right now. I'll explain all that later. Right now, I believe we're ready to land. Let's switch our focus back to the matter at hand – namely finding one missing heiress and one renegade vampire."

"I trust you slept well," Emmett greeted Ellen, as she joined him on the aft deck. "There's something about the sound and movement of the ocean that most people find very relaxing."

"Yes, they're very relaxing. I slept like the dead, actually," Ellen said, flashing a warm smile.

"And they also seem to stimulate the appetite," Emmett said with a grin, as Ellen's stomach growled loudly. "We'll start our tour in the dining room."

Too embarrassed to speak, Ellen gave her host a red-faced nod and crooked smile. He took her hand, laced their fingers together, flashed his dimples, and started toward the dining room. Ellen grinned and blushed again. She hadn't held hands with a man for years. Such a simple gesture, yet it felt so sensual. Again her body responded on its own, flooding her panties without even engaging her brain in the process.

"_It's those damned dimples_," she told herself, then added, "_and the fact that I desperately need to get laid good and proper."_

There was a luscious buffet set up on the sideboard, complete with every breakfast food known to man. Ellen took dainty portions of eggs, sausage, fruit, and a poppy seed muffin.

"You aren't eating?" she questioned, noting that Emmett once again joined her at the table without a plate in front of him.

"I've been up for hours," he offered, hoping she would assume that meant he had already eaten. And what d'ya know? She did exactly that.

"Are we going somewhere in particular, or just cruising in general?" she asked, before putting the bite of melon in her mouth.

"Cruising for a day or two, I think," Emmett said thoughtfully. "I kind of like just being at sea. It's peaceful. Time doesn't matter. No pressure. Is that okay with you?"

"I'm along for the ride. Personally, I could live on a boat… er, yacht….and be quite happy. Not dealing with what time or even what day it is suits me just fine. I find it extremely peaceful. Besides, given that my lack of contact with anyone is sure to have set off red flags, it's no doubt much safer for us to just be off the grid, so to speak."

Emmett's mouth turned up at the corners, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Ellen had the right idea, but he knew they weren't quite far enough off the grid. And the people who were looking for Ellen couldn't hold a candle to those who were looking for him.

He had gone against the code on occasion in the past. Nothing too drastic. But this time? He knew he was going to be getting more than a slap on the hand.

Much more.

But, in the end, it was going to be so worth it.

At the moment, she had no clue whatsoever, but Ellen would make sure of that.

Yes, she would.

Once again, he flashed his killer dimples at her.

And this time his eyes lit up.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

To say that J was anxious to get to the water of the Arabian Gulf was like saying kids sometimes want to go to Disneyland. He threatened to just pick me up and take off running with me rather than waiting for a cab to take us to the marina. His facial expressions would have been comical, had it not been for the extremely gripping aura we both felt as we stood on the curb waiting for the baby-shit yellow vehicle to stop in front of us.

As we sped toward the marina, J took my hand in his, squeezing it every few seconds. The electrical current hummed between us nearly creating sparks it was so strong. We barely said two words to each other, but the message was loud and clear: they had been here, and very recently.

We quickly secured a suite at the Burj Al Arab Hotel, located on Jumeirah Beach, providing us somewhere to leave our luggage and insuring a place to sleep later. Without doing any more than literally throwing our things into the seven-star rated room, we were off to find a secluded beach. Luckily, the waterfront area around the hotel was private, and we found a small beach not too far down the shore hidden from sight by a rock jetty. As I approached the sea, I began mentally calling to Water, asking for assistance in finding the boat carrying Ellen and Emmett. I removed my shoes, pulled my dress tightly against my legs, and waded out far enough from the shore to be knee-deep in the water.

Immediately, the ripples coming in changed dramatically. Rather than gently lapping at the shoreline, they began to swirl around my feet, forming a whirlpool centered around me. I closed my eyes and let my inner spiritual side take over.

Spirit Girl and I joined hands and smiled at each other. We had been making trips into the Realm of Essence together since I was a young girl. Calling The Elements to join me in a circle, in which they would manifest their presence, was one thing; actually joining their personifications in their world was something entirely different. Mad different.

In order to pass into that alternate plain, I had to let my mind and spirit separate from my body. In my first attempt, I had failed miserably, letting excitement that had morphed into paralyzing fear prevent me from making the separation. My second and third attempts were better, but not enough to enable me to fully materialize on their turf. Finally, in shear desperation, I simply relaxed and let my spirit guide lead me. She had held both my hands in hers and backed into the darkness, taking me with her. Once I had passed through the portal to the Realm of Essence, it was easy to go back again, but Spirit Girl and I had always made the trip together.

As we approached the five embodiments, they greeted us warmly, as other occupants of the realm nodded cordially in welcome.

"You've come for our help," Air spoke first, sounding breathy and, well, air-y.

"Yes, we have need of your assistance," Spirit Girl confirmed.

"And I want to thank you all for not coming to my rescue a couple nights ago. That would have been quite awkward, to say the least," I said as matter-of-fact as possible, while failing in my attempt not to blush. "I'm sorry. I never meant to alarm you in the first place."

"Noted." Fire's voice crackled as he nodded graciously.

Spirit slipped a knowing, playful wink discreetly my way. And didn't that just make me feel all the more you-are-so-busted-and-what-the-hell-are-you-thinki ng-anyway?

"As you know, I'm working with a partner now - Dr. James Ravenscroft." I gave sounding like my professional self my best effort. "He is a wizard turned vampire with supernatural abilities of his own. My latest assignment is to find an American widow kidnapped by a vampire named Emmett. James feels strongly they're traveling on the Arabian Gulf by private yacht."

"They are," Earth confirmed, her voice sweet and soothing as a mother speaking to her newborn. "They boarded the yacht, _Immortality,_ last evening. They are traveling on an easterly course."

"Thank you so much," I gushed. "J will be so happy. And if they dock somewhere, please get my attention some way. Not too drastic – but contact me. Please."

Spirit Girl and I said good-bye to our friends and joined hands again, walking back through the portal.

"The wizard vamp was right on," she said, sounding both complimentary and somewhat surprised. "I'm impressed."

"He's been right about everything so far," I reminded her, just before I became my Dr. Rhyleigh Manning self again. "And I'm going to be happy to tell him he's right this time as well."

I felt the slight jolt as my mind and inner spirit slipped back inside my body.

"They're going east on the Indian Ocean," I stated excitedly as I opened my eyes and reconnected with J. "Any guesses where they're going?"

"I'm quite impressed and somewhat in shock. You just sort of, what did you call it? Zoned out? I understand much more clearly now. Do the Elements actually speak to you in an audible voice?" J pumped me for answers. "How did you call Water? I didn't hear you say anything. And that whirlpool? Was that Water communicating with you?"

"Geez, J, I think I'm rubbing off on you," I teased. "All those questions. Let me see: Zone out, yes, yes, mentally, sort of but not really."

J's glare and his cocked eyebrow let me know he didn't appreciate my returning his own form of irritating response to my recent question-overload back at him, making me very glad I was still standing in the water ten feet off shore.

"I just kind of go inside myself and yes, the Elements do speak to me. We, er, I just go where they are. Not sure exactly where that is, but once I'm there, The Realm of Essence seems to be a very real place, and they're all like real beings."

"Amazing. Realm of Essence you call it? Seems I have heard that term in the past. And you said they're _like_ real beings? You mean they're more like spirits? Or are they actually flesh?"

"Um, yes and no. They're like, just beings," I stuttered, trying to find the words I was looking for and coming up short. "They're not human, of course, and they're not like ghosts either. Not transparent. I mean, I can see them in the same way I see myself in the mirror. I guess you could say they look like a sort of reflection. If you reached out, you wouldn't be touching them directly. It's hard to explain them. I wish I could take you with me."

"You and me both. I had no idea you actually transported yourself to an alternate universe. I assumed you just spoke or communicated in some form, like the whirlpool, or maybe a small tremor, or lightning. This is far more incredible than I ever imagined. No wonder Toots kept you shielded so securely. Your physical body is quite vulnerable when you're in that realm. Anything could happen to you. I shudder to think."

"Don't worry. They watch out for me at all times. They respond immediately if they think I've been threatened or harmed. Anyone who tried to mess with me while I'm with them would pay a very high price. You can't even begin to imagine…. But back to the here and now. Ellen and Emmett arrived here last night, and immediately boarded the yacht. They're heading in an easterly direction, according to Earth."

"Heading east. That's logical, of course. I'm not getting any sense of what their destination might be yet. I only know where they're _not_ going."

"And you know that because….." I let my voice trail off so J could complete the statement.

"Because Emmett wouldn't go anywhere near Qatar. The Council has a very strong presence in that country. And of course, Romania."

"Romania? You're kidding – right? As in Dracula?" I questioned, mind and mouth slipping into auto-sarcasm mode.

And didn't I just automatically add rolling my eyes to complete the whole thing?

"Vlad Tepes was a very real person," J stated, ignoring my indiscretion, "born in Sighisoara. Literature changed his name to Dracula and awarded him the title of "Count." He was actually a brutal soldier, and…."

"Yes I know all about him," I cut in, stopping J in mid-sentence. "I've always had a fixation for vampires, so I did a shitload of research, but the matter at hand is a real vampire - Emmett, not Dracula, and what we're going to do about him. Should we chase them by boat? Hire a helicopter? Certainly, he travels under false documentation. Are you familiar with what his yacht looks like?"

"Quite familiar. I've spend a fair amount of time on _Immortality_. I would know it if I saw it, even from the air, if that's what you're getting at. My suggestion is to hire a helicopter, and I'm not very hopeful about that even working. They left last night and have a huge lead on us. The probability of us catching up with them on the Indian Ocean, which is not exactly a small body of water, by the way, lies somewhere between slim and none. Of course, we have to give it a shot, but I'm not feeling very positive."

"Maybe we should wait until you feel some sort of intuition about them, or until one of The Elements contacts me about where they docked," I offered, joining him back on shore. "Earth, Air, and Spirit will give us a little help as well as Water. Fire not so much. And your own tracking instinct will kick in as soon as they land, right?"

"It should." J's response wasn't the yes-of-course-it-will I was expecting, and my face evidently registered my disappointment. "It probably will." I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I am sure it will. Is that what you wanted to hear? These supernatural abilities aren't an exact science, Cam. They can be inconclusive."

"Sorry," I muttered, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm just used to your being a little more positive. More sure of yourself. Enthusiastic, even. It's all good, though. No worries."

"Forgive me, love. I'm a bit taken by your communicating with the elements, and then finding out you actually join them in their own realm. I guess I'm feeling a little jealous," he admitted. "I was looking forward to you teaching me how to do it, and since that isn't going to be possible, I'm ….. well, I'm sulking, actually."

"Well cut off my legs and call me Shorty," I said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and getting a thumbs-up from Spirit Girl. "James the ancient vampire wizard is jealous. Now that's an emotion I didn't think existed in you. I would have bet money on it, in fact."

"I was human, you know," he defended himself. "I have emotions like anyone else. And I already admitted to being jealous when you were frolicking between the sheets with some of your boy toys."

"Boy toys?" I nearly choked on the words. "I never had a boy toy – boyfriend, yes, boy toy, no. And I'm glad you got jealous; it would serve you right for spying on me. Freakin' voyeur vampire. I'm actually quite thrilled you were jealous."

"You shouldn't be. It nearly cost that automobile mechanic, Michael, his life. He was lucky I could control myself."

"Really?" I nearly shrieked. "You're incredible. You seriously would have killed him? Well, you can calm down. I'm with you now, and I guess I will be forever, so you can just put all that jealousy crap in a box, tie a string around it, and ship it to the Arctic. Okay?"

"Agreed." J pulled me into a tight hug and kissed me as if he was sealing the deal.

I leaned back slightly, to look him in the face. His immediate expression was the classic "why-are-you-looking-at-me-that-way?" As I continued to stare him down, he shook his head and finally gave me the "okay-you-win-this-time" look I was waiting for. Jealousy problem solved.

"If we aren't going to start after them right away, we should get something to eat," he said, letting go of me and changing the subject completely. "You need a lot more nourishment than you give yourself. And, unfortunately, I need my special form of nutrition. We do need to locate a blood bank soon if I want my strength and tracking skill to be at the optimum, which I think if a very wise idea. As I said, Emmett is a pure vampire and lives solely on blood. He's always at his best."

We walked back to the hotel and went back to our suite to freshen up before finding a restaurant. I took a quick shower while J checked the internet for a blood bank. Our best bet was the local hospital, which we decided to visit before rather than after we had dinner. Given how incredibly fast J could move, coupled with his ability to dematerialize and reappear somewhere else, he was in and out of the pharmacy supply area while I asked for directions to the cafeteria. He had taken care of his need to feed, and had his pockets filled with a couple extra pints of AB-negative for later.

"That's a very rare blood type," I commented as we walked down the street toward the restaurant. "Is that the type you have to have?"

"No, any type will do. I favor this one for the fact that it is the most rare type. And because this blood type has always tasted the most like yours."

"Always tasted like mine?" I questioned his response. "When did you taste my blood before the night we did the blood bond?"

"You were a baby. One of the times Toots let me visit, she allowed me to sample a drop. She pricked your finger and let it drip onto my tongue. The memory of that taste has stayed vivid in my mind ever since." J's voice had a definite smile in it.

During dinner, we discussed possible methods of locating Emmett and Ellen, and also what we would do when we eventually did find them. And, of course, being the sarcastic, eye-rolling brat I am, I irritated J with my personality traits several times during the conversation. He didn't say a thing and I assumed since we were in our professional personas, it had been acceptable behavior.

Wrong.

As soon as we were in our hotel bedroom, J reminded me he had promised there would be consequences for behaving badly, even if we only practiced our D/s relationship in the bedroom. I stood looking at him, wide eyed and open mouthed, as he calmly sat down on the edge of the bed and crooked his index finger at me.

"Take you clothes off and bend over my knee," he instructed. "You have been a naughty girl all day today. And don't forget to count..."

And damn it if that didn't just make me tingle from head to toe.

Ellen pulled the woolen throw around her shoulders and shivered slightly. The day, in itself, had been warm enough, considering that most days on or near the ocean were typically overcast and cloudy, but now that the sun had officially set, the damp cool air no longer felt comforting or refreshing. Now, the chill spoke to your bones, who in turn warned your better judgment to send you in pursuit of a warmer place to be.

Emmett had opted for a nap a few hours ago, and she was missing his company. Not wanting to prevent being able to sleep through the night, she had chosen to read a book selected from his surprisingly well-stocked library rather than take a nap herself. The one she choose was an old, leather-bound sort of diary, with hand written pages whose ink was fading away to the golden brown state, and the pages themselves having become the vanilla, rather than pristine white, shade of beige. The combination made reading a bit of a challenge, but the entries were written in eloquent penmanship and were very entertaining: Some light and comical, while others were dark and foreboding. There was no title on the cover nor the flyleaf. Perhaps it was, in fact, the journal of an old seaman; maybe the previous captain or a crewmate connected to this boat. Whoever had written it, Ellen found herself mesmerized by what he had to say and wishing she could meet him to hear his stories first hand.

"Still reading?" Emmett asked, suddenly appearing at her side.

"My goodness, you startled me!" Ellen nearly shrieked. "I guess I'm so focused on this book I didn't even hear you walking up to me."

"You like that book?" he questioned, flashing those panty-flooding dimples and sitting down on the chaise next to hers. "Of all the books you could have chosen….. I'm surprised you picked that one. I would have bet on a sexy romance novel or maybe a complex mystery for you."

"Actually, I really like biographies and documentaries. Non-fiction. I do enjoy reading the classics, of course. This one just sort of jumped out at me for some reason. Maybe because it lacks a title. I guess in that sense, maybe I was looking for a mystery."

"And are you finding the content a bit mysterious?" he asked, sounding more seriously concerned than his expression betrayed.

"More compelling than mysterious, I'd say. The writer has a knack for keeping you caught in his web. You want to know more and more about what he was feeling, where he was going, what his next day would bring. It's very subtle the way he pulls you into his life. Any idea who wrote it? There's absolutely no indication of author, publisher, or title. Where did you find such a treasure?"

"Finding treasures is what I do," he said, standing and extending his hand to her. "You need to get inside. I'm sure that light blanket isn't enough to keep the evening chill away. Let's have a brandy or something to warm us up, shall we?"

They strolled hand in hand to the main salon, where a crackling fire bid them welcome and a bottle of Armagnac invited them to linger awhile. Emmett poured two snifters and handed one to Ellen. She smiled and touched her glass to his.

"To mystery and old journals," she said before taking a sip of the amber liquid.

"A journal, is it?" Emmett responded, sounding a bit more surprised than he had intended.

"I believe it is. Have you never looked through your treasure?" Ellen challenged. "It seems to be the diary of someone who did a lot of traveling on the ocean. He seems to have been a member of a ship's crew, or at the very least did an in depth study of the mates working onboard, and wrote these entries from their perspective. It's quite fascinating. You should read it."

"Maybe someday," Emmett mused, "if I have nothing better to do. Are you getting hungry? I was famished, so I raided the galley before coming outside. You should eat, Ellen. I told the staff to make sure there were snacks available for you at all times. All you have to do is ask and they'll bring you whatever you want."

"I'm fine, Emmett, thank you. I've been munching on fruit and cheese and all sorts of yummy little sandwiches all day. Just sitting here, talking with you is what I'd enjoy most right now."

Ellen slipped her shoes off and curled her legs up next to her on the sofa. Turning sideways, she leaned back against the arm and faced her host, who sat at the opposite end, gazing into the fire. She admired his fine chiseled features: wide-set, deep blue eyes, high prominent cheeks, slender nose, firm lips, and those damned dimples that seemed to be present no matter what the rest of his face did.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said softly, hoping not to disturb the mood that had become intimate and cozy between them.

He turned and glanced at her, smiling. "I was thinking how nice this is - just sitting here by the fire. With you. It's how I always imagined it would be."

"Always?" Ellen questioned. "We've only just met."

"True that, but I've always dreamed of having someone to share times like this with. Just sipping a fine cognac by the fire. Someone to share my life with. Doing simple things. Mainly just being together because that's what we want – to just be together. Just the two of us," Emmett spoke from a longing deep within.

Ellen understood. Completely. Her marriage had been the result of family expectation more than anything else. Oh, she had learned to love the late Sherman Mara, after all, he was a generous man and took incredibly good care of her, not sparing or questioning any whim or want she had. He was good company at dinner, well-read, educated, articulate, nice looking, and acceptable in bed.

Looking back, as she had done so often after his death, Ellen accepted that she had never really been "in love" with him. The lack of passion in all the phases of their relationship had been blatantly evident to her. Especially in the bedroom. She wondered if Sherm, like her, had had the same hidden desire for more. A desire neither of them ever spoke about.

She knew the blush was beginning at wondering what kind of lover Emmett would be. She felt her face literally heat up at picturing the two of them in bed together. He would be extremely passionate, she was sure of that. Probably much more feral than gentlemanly, she told herself.

Oh yes, he would definitely be uninhibited and wild. Demanding, taking what he wanted, and at the same time very aware of pleasuring his lover.

She smiled wickedly, slowly exhaling the breath she'd been holding.

"I'll pay a dollar for that thought," Emmett offered softly, pulling her back to the present.

She turned and looked him in the eyes.

Moving closer to her, he gently nipped her ear and whispered, "Please tell me whatever it was that made your cheeks so red had something to do with me."

Ellen studied his lips before locking her eyes on his. Her breathing became small gasps. It could have been the vintage Armagnac, or maybe just the ambiance in general, but something urged her to give in to her inner bad girl, dared her to seize the moment and throw caution to the wind. As she leaned in to receive the kiss he obviously wanted to give her, she knew.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt – she knew.

"Ellen, you know how deeply attracted to you I am. You know I desire you. I would love to kiss you. If I may?" Emmett's voice was soft as an angel's, and his face like that of a cherub.

As she melted into his arms, her lips responded in a way they never had before. Her body pressing against his, arching into him. In her mind, she smiled. She knew he had captured a part of her. And she knew the reason for her extremely out-of-character behavior.

She felt herself giving in, letting go. And it felt amazing. Besides, she told herself, it wasn't her fault at all.

It was those damn dimples.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It was as if they were characters in a turn-of-the-century Harlequin romance novel: Emmett, in the role of the proper suitor, ended the perfectly chaste kiss, albeit a bit too soon for Ellen's taste, and smiled as he sat up straight and took her hand in his.

"Thank you, my dear," he said cordially, adding a sight nod of his head.

Ellen sat still, stunned and not knowing quite how to respond. Hadn't he just confessed he wanted her? He had just French kissed her ear, for Pete's sake. She felt foolish and more than just a bit embarrassed at having thrown herself at him physically, and at the same time her irritation at having been somewhat mislead began to flare up inside her.

"Thank you, my dear?" she huffed mockingky under her breath as she placed her hands in her lap and turned to look at the fire.

Emmett stifled a laugh, immediately losing the shit-eatin' grin and replacing it with a serious, no-nonsense look. Acting as though he had no idea what had upset her, he cleared his throat and offered, "I've overstepped my bounds. Please forgive me, Ellen. I should have waited for an answer before I proceeded to take the liberty of making unwanted advances. Please, forgive me?"

"Yes, of course," she mumbled. "Nothing to forgive, really."

For the next few seconds she sat chewing on her lips and giving the room the once-over. Her eyes checked every nook and cranny as if there were clues to a murder mystery hidden about the room. She examined and scrutinized every detail of every object, with the exception of the man who sat next to her of on sofa.

"Ellen?" he whispered softly, taking her hand again and giving it a squeeze. "You're upset with me."

"Upset? Why on earth would I be upset? It's fine, Emmett. Really. I think I'll just retire to my stateroom and ….."

Her sentence left hanging in the air as Emmett wrapped his arms around her tightly and gave her the kiss she expected in the first place. His lips pressed against hers gently yet with an urgency that spoke volumes. As he parted his lips slightly she immediately responded in kind, inviting him to enter her mouth, to claim it with his own.

His tongue slid between her lips, grazing gently along her teeth in search of its dance partner. Strong, muscled arms tightened around her, pulling her against his chest and holding her there. She was the woman he fantasized about for the last few years. The woman he had dreamed of finding for the last fourteen centuries. And here, at last, she was in his arms, her lips pressed against his, her body so tight against him he could feel her heart beating.

Centuries of denying his true self were threatening the ultimate form of betrayal as his fangs elongated. Every internal vampire instinct rose up and demanded satisfaction. His senses kicked into high gear, his body a raging inferno of lust and desire.

He wanted this woman as he had never wanted another before, but he was a pure vampire. Royalty among his kind.

And this pairing was strictly forbidden.

The thought brought back the reality he dreaded, the law he hated most. He gradually eased out of the kiss, slowly withdrawing his tongue, and placing soft, gentle nips down her jaw line and neck. She moaned, letting her head fall back, exposing her throat to him. As if he weren't already aroused enough. It took every bit of willpower he could summon not to bite into that jugular vein pulsing before his eyes, practically begging him to set his true nature free. To indulge, partake. To taste the red sweetness carried inside the fragile vessel.

As his hold relaxed, Ellen arched into him again, thrusting her breasts against his chest as her arms wound around his neck. Her mouth found his and locked into a searing kiss, tongues dancing together again from her mouth to his and back again.

Completely throwing any coherent thought out the window, Emmett slipped one arm under her legs and the other around her back. He stood up, and without breaking their kiss, carried his dream-come-true to his stateroom. Kicking the door closed behind them as if he could keep the real world from interfering, he strode to his bed and gently laid Ellen on it.

The edict was specific, but there were ways around it. Technicalities. He smiled to himself as need and desire easily won the battle with reason and protocol.

"I want you, Ellen," he hissed, sucking in a breath. "I mean to have you – here and now, unless you tell me to stop."

Emerald eyes searched his face for the sincerity she needed, and found it written clearly in his eyes and on his lips. She reached out, took his hands, and brought them to her lips, kissing the backs of them, his palms, and each fingertip in turn, before placing them on her breasts.

"Take me, Emmett. Take what you want…all of me. Please."

The surrender in her soft voice and on her face confirmed her own desire to share the most intimate experience a man and woman could share. There was only a deep and burning need, the desire to give her entire self to him without a shred of doubt or fear.

Emmett unbuttoned and discarded his shirt, followed by his pants and boxers. His erection sprung free, physical proof of his declaration. He leaned over the bed and began kissing her again, hands busily removing her shirt and bra. Slowly his mouth kissed its way to where his hands had been, licking and nipping at her hardened nipples. Sucking one then the other into his mouth, his tongue swirled teasingly around them, causing Ellen to shudder visibly.

As his mouth continued to pleasure her breasts, his hands unfastened her pants and slid them down her legs. Tracing back up her thighs, his fingers inched inside her lace panties and found the source of her wetness. After running up and down the length of her slit, he dipped inside her with two fingers, then brought them to his mouth and licked his lips. His tongue flicked out, tasting her juices on his fingers before sticking them into his mouth and sucking them like melting popsicles. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of her arousal.

"Ellen, my love, you taste better than I even imagined. Allow me to drink from you."

Settling between her legs, he lifted her feet, putting one leg over each of his shoulders. His mouth made love to her pussy lips, his tongue probing inside her, lapping up the sweet nectar. Gently his fingers spread her, exposing her sex. His tongue ran across her clit, making her gasp, and fist handfuls of his hair. He slipped his hands under her ass, raising her to his mouth and giving him full control of her genitals.

Ellen felt the heat spread throughout her body, radiating from her core. Never had she dreamed anything could be like this; Sherman had not been very imaginative and had never even attempted to perform oral sex on her. This was beyond her wildest fantasy. Her body quivered and jerked uncontrollably as Emmett began gently sucking her clit, causing her to erupt in orgasm.

"Oh. My. God," she screamed, as her body gave in to the waves of orgasm that washed over her, fists tightening around the handfuls of his hair she clutched. "You're just…you…gahhhh."

Emmett continued pleasuring her sex as his fingers entered her again, sliding in and out in rhythm with his sucking. She came again, harder this time, and again. Her breathing was ragged, gasping. Tremors racked her body from head to toe, spasms of orgasmic release.

He climbed onto the bed and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her like a baby and rocking back and forth. He kissed her forehead, cheeks, eyes, and finally her mouth. His arms encircled her, squeezing gently every few seconds.

She finally calmed and opened her eyes, gazing into his.

"Mmm, that was amazing. Incredible. You are incredible," she sighed. "I've never….."

"I know," Emmett cut her off, dimples giving him that angelic look he wickedly rocked. "And this is just the beginning, Ellen. Promise I can make it so much better, if you let me."

"I can't imagine ….." she said dreamily, letting her voice trail off as she did, in fact, try to imagine it. Pulling herself out of her reverie, she sat up straight and slid off his lap, standing in front of him, hands on her hips. "Now, sir, I believe it is my turn. Although, I should just tease you the way you did me with that polite little peck in the parlor."

"Me? Tease you?" he pretended to be shocked at the mere thought.

She cocked at eyebrow and gave him the cut-the-bullshit look.

"Busted," he said with a chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But the look on your face was priceless. Thanks for being such a good sport. You could have gotten really mad at me."

"I did feel more than just a little silly and a whole lot of embarrassed. But mad?" She shook her head in the negative.

"Not even a little bit?" he questioned, flashing his dimples as if they were some secret truth-extracting weapon.

"Okay, I was slightly irritated. I'll give you that much," she conceded. "But not angry. Now, if I'm not mistaken, I was just about to have my way with you."

After Ellen gave him a playful shove, Emmett stretched out on the bed, fingers laced together behind his head. She had of course, never performed fellatio, but just in case the opportunity might present itself, had secretly watched porn flicks while practicing on a knockwurst. She could do this, she assured herself. Yes. After what Emmett had just done for her? Yes, she could.

She wanted to pleasure him. Needed to for her own personal satisfaction. Climbing onto the bed, she situated herself between his legs, face to face, so to speak, with his fully erect penis.

"_Jesus, help me_, _he's humongous,"_ she thought to herself, as her gag reflex suddenly decided to give a live demonstration of its function.

Her hands shook as she wrapped her fingers around his thick cock. For a moment, she ran her hand up and down, stroking the length of him. And didn't that just make him all the bigger and harder? Smiling to herself at her obvious sexual prowess, she ventured forward.

Cautiously.

Her tongue peeked out between her lips as she leaned forward. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, licking the tip of his cock. It was hot and smooth and silky. And it felt amazing to be running her tongue over and around it.

She glanced up through her eyelashes to sneak a peek at Emmett's face. With his eyes closed, he appeared to be enjoying her efforts. That was the you-go-girl she needed for her confidence to punch a hole in the ceiling. She slid her mouth over the head of his dick and sucked the head in gently.

Emmett moaned softly and folded his arms across his chest. He apparently liked what she was doing. She sucked a little harder and took him further into her mouth. As she relaxed more, she began to just go with it, let her natural instincts take over. Give in to the desires she had suppressed for way too long. Her hands slid up and down in-sync with her mouth, her tongue circling and swirling around his length.

His hips joined her rhythm, rocking gently with her movements. Chancing a quick glance at the woman nestled between his thighs, his emotions soared off the charts at the look of pure enjoyment on her face. It was clearly her first time pleasuring a man in this capacity, but she was giving him everything she had and loving every minute of it. This sweet, sheltered, inexperienced girl had an inner wild woman who was about to be set free.

And Emmett planned to encourage her independence in every way he possibly could.

Ellen was a natural at giving head. Emmett and his magnificent cock were the catalyst she'd needed her entire adult life. This is what had been missing in her marriage. This was what she had longed for, dreamed of, and fantasized about: raw, animal, lustful sex. Heaven knew she had had way too much polite missionary-style making love.

She ran her hands up his torso, raking her nails across his abs, and pinching his nipples. She slid up his body, straddling him until his erection pressed against her pussy. Her eyes met his, desire meeting desire, need and want merging with need and want. He held her hips in place as he slowly penetrated her, filling her with himself. She moaned, letting her head fall backwards as his hands cupped her breasts, kneading and fondling them tenderly. Her hips began rolling against him, riding him, pushing him deeper and deeper inside her.

Straightening her back, she leaned slightly forward, head falling to the side, once again locking eyes as her hips kept grinding into him, the tempo building into a heated crescendo. Emmett sat up, wrapped his arms around her and flipped her over onto her back beneath him. He pushed himself slowly into her, filling her, only to slide out and back in again. Her hips rose to meet each thrust, pounding into each other, mirroring each other's movement.

She felt her inner muscles tighten, the spring winding up as her orgasm overtook her. She screamed his name continuously as she released time after time.

Emmett thrust again. Hard this time. And pushed inside her as far as he could get.

"Ellen, I'm going to…." His voice trailed off as he quickly slipped his cock out of her and came in spurts on the sheets between her legs.

He growled, a feral sound coming from deep in his throat. Sitting back on his heels, he took a couple deep breaths before lying down beside her.

"You are amazing, Ellen. I have dreamed of having you in my bed too many times to count. And you have exceeded all my dreams."

"And you, Emmett, are the ingredient that was missing from my marriage. From my entire life. I feel so… so gloriously slutty. So wonderfully wanton."

They laughed together for a moment before Emmett gently turned her face toward his and offered softly, "Share my bed with me, Ellen. Sleep in my arms. Tonight, and every night."

I cocked my eyebrow and gave J my best you're-shittin'-me-right? look. He mirrored my expression and beckoned me forward with his index finger.

"Why?" I demanded, hands on hips, balking at his summons. "You said we're only practicing our D/s relationship in the bedroom and I know I haven't done anything wrong since we've been in here, not that the thought of a spanking isn't just a tad hot. But still… what did I do?"

"Cam, love, we might only be acting out the sexual part of our relationship in the bedroom, and while you don't have to call me Master when we're out in public, it certainly doesn't make it any less real, no matter where we are. I have given you rules to follow, and you tossed them aside with blatant disregard today. For that disrespect and disobedience, punishment is required."

"I did no such thing. Well, not on purpose just to be defiant, anyway," I defended myself. "You know some things I do are just me. They're involuntary reactions. They shouldn't count toward earning punishment. They're endearing personality traits, and they're part of why you love me."

"Sorry, my dear, but they do count. Yes, they might be personality traits, but endearing? Not so much. And, yes I do love you, but you better get your sweet ass bare and across my knee. Now."

J's face was in full no nonsense mode: No hint of a smile, no trace of negotiation in his voice.

"Come on, Sweet Love," I pouted, giving it one last shot, "cut me some slack. I just.."

"Cam, you have now gone from ten swats to fifteen. Address me improperly again and you'll be at twenty. In fact, for every second you make me wait, I'm going to add one more."

I quickly began shedding my clothes and either tossing or kicking them away from me. As soon as I was naked, I sulked forward and bent across J's lap. For a moment, he surprised me by rubbing my cheeks gently. About the time I thought maybe he had actually been teasing, he let go.

"Count," he instructed firmly. "Count or I'll continue to paddle you until you do."

"One," I hissed loudly, and for good measure added, "Master."

And didn't that just fall out of my mouth like a shitload of nasty tasting sarcasm?

"Well, that one doesn't count, Miss Sassy Brat. Get your attitude under control and let's begin again, shall we?" he said, a definite warning in his tone. "And congratulations on earning twenty swats. With the riding crop. Stand up and go bend over the desk."

I stood up and suppressed the urge to stomp across the room, choosing to walk softly and quickly instead. J opened his suitcase and retrieved what I considered the weapon of mass destruction. He swished it through the air, taking it for a test drive I assumed, but knew better than to make any kind of remark about it. I positioned myself across the small writing desk facing out the window. At least I'd have a city-light view that would hopefully distract me and make my punishment more bearable.

I was wrong.

On both counts.

At least he prevented me from getting myself in any more trouble by administering the first five swats in rapid succession as I gritted my teeth and counted. My ass and upper legs stung already, but after gently rubbing my cheeks a couple times, he delivered five more smacks, much harder than the first five and alternating between my ass, thighs, and between my legs. I counted each one out loud, careful not to interject any extra personality.

Again, he rubbed my backside for a moment before beginning again. By the time we got to fifteen, my ass was on fire, upper legs bright red and stinging like hell, my core was throbbing, and my eyes were full of tears, but I stubbornly refused to even blink and allow them to spill over and run down my face.

Spirit Girl kept crossing over the line between outright rage and total disgust at my behavior.

"_He's hurting you_," she seethed, fists clinched, pacing back and forth. "_He's spanking your butt and your girly parts. Sadistic Sick-o. Say that word he gave you, and make him stop. Now."_

"_I'm…..fine…."_ I managed to choke out, clamping my teeth together. "_And…he's…not…a ... sadist. He ….is…Master. And I'm never….going to…safe word. Never."_

Number sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen landed firmly across my sex, causing my core to ignite and the wetness to flow out of me.

"Damn traitor pussy," I silently huffed to myself as I counted each stroke out loud.

"_Damn fucking asshole vampire,"_ Spirit Girl shrieked and stomped her feet. _"Say it!"_

Number nineteen was delivered so soundly it nearly shot put me across the desk. I bit the inside of my mouth hard enough I could taste blood.

Number twenty had me gasping and struggling to stand up, but his strong left hand locked around the back of my neck, forcing me to stay in position, head down, nipples pressed into the blotter, hands clawing the edge of the desk.

"And for making me wait," he announced calmly, "I'm going to be generous and only give you one additional, although in truth it should be closer to four. Do not mistake this undeserved kindness as a sign of weakness. Now, does my submissive understand how important it is to obey her Master immediately? Answer me."

"Yes, Master, she does," I choked out, giving into the sobs that refused to remain bottled up inside me for another second.

The final swat was more than Spirit Girl could handle. She jumped up and began chanting deep in her throat, calling on every spirit in the atmosphere. The room filled with an eerie ghostly moan, while Air suddenly joined her, swirling around violently, and nearly blowing the draperies and pictures off the bedroom walls.

"No!" I screamed, directing the command at the three of them. "J, stop. Now. Guide, it's okay. And Air, please believe I'm not in danger. The two of you need to chill, and J, this would be a really good time for you to just hold me. Okay?"

He quickly scooped me up and had me sitting on his lap, wrapped in his arms, fast enough to make my stomach catch in my throat. I laid my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes, concentrating on getting my breathing even and relaxed, and willing my two spirit friends to calm down before any serious damage rained down on J.

My guide glared, shooting daggers at me, but she did sit down, cross-legged and quiet, waiting for what might happen next. Air, on the other hand, blasted around the room again, this time whipping our hair around our faces and sending everything that wasn't nailed down flying, as he manifested his presence.

J held me tightly, electric blue eyes big as saucers, as flicks of light and energy formed a web and hummed protectively around us.

"What the hell just happened?" J demanded, ready to engage in mortal combat. "What the fuck _is_ that?"

I gave him a lopsided smile, cleared my throat, and answered, "The very unhappy banshee you heard was my pissed off spirit guide being very protective, and the whirlwind? James, allow me to introduce you to one of my very special friends. Air, meet Dr. James Ravenscroft, vampire wizard, new partner, and future mate. He was just showing me the importance of respect and obedience, 'cause um, yeah," I giggled nervously, then winced, "you're probably going to find it hard to believe I'm involved in this, but he's also my Dom."

The room suddenly became deathly still and completely quiet. For a moment, four very different beings held their breaths and stared at each other. Finally, Air spoke, his voice sounding like wind blowing through a tunnel.

"He is your Dominant, and you are his slave?" he asked, incredulously.

"Submissive," I corrected. "I'm his submissive, not his slave."

"Semantics, Rhyleigh; a rose by any other name….." The wind died down and became a breeze.

"Living this lifestyle with James is my choice. Honest. It's really what I want," I reassured everyone in the room, especially me. "So please, in the future, know that J is my protector just as much as you all are. He's no danger to me – okay? And everything we do, no matter what it might look like, is completely being done with my consent."

J smiled warmly and hugged me tighter.

"Unless you hear me say 'apples'…."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"It wasn't that funny, Love." J's tone was a cocktail of I'm-fucking-irritated with a shot of was-he-for-real? whipped in a blender and poured into a chimney glass. He did add a weak smile and squeezed my hand in place of the cherry and paper umbrella.

"I wasn't laughing at what Air said," I attempted a mild schmooze. "I was laughing at your imitation of him. I mean – you sounded just like him: '_Take heed, vampire. We will be monitoring, whether the Gifted One acknowledges the need to or not.' _ You had him spot on. But, you're right. It's not funny because he meant every single word. And just think what might have happened if Fire had decided to step in rather than Air. Or if the hotel had been leveled because Earth was pissed off. She can be brutal."

"She?" J questioned.

"Mother Earth, right? Of course she's a she. Air, Fire, and Water are masculine, whereas Earth and Spirit are feminine. But make no mistake, they are each as powerful as the other. Earth and Spirit can kick ass just as good as Air, Fire, and Water any day of the week."

"Well, you explained very clearly our lifestyle is our choice and you're in no danger whatsoever. Surely, Air will convey the message to the rest of them, won't he? Especially given we'll be mated soon. They all need to grasp the whole dynamic, but if they don't, that falls under the 'that's their problem' category, as far as I'm concerned."

"I agree. Wholeheartedly. But we don't want a catastrophe happening because we got a little too playful." I lifted J's hand to my lips and gave the back of it a kiss. "You really should want them to like you, trust me. They've each saved my ass more than once. And if it weren't for my personal spirit guide….."

My voice cut off abruptly as she squeezed me tight enough to pop my eyeballs out of my skull. I hugged her in return and gave her a huge grin.

"Spirit Girl has been with me since I was born. She's always there to offer advice and lend a second pair of eyes and ears. She seems more like a real person than a spirit. She's like having your best friend sharing your body with you, yet being her own distinct person at the same time."

"I can tell she doesn't much care for you being my submissive."

"Your grasp of the obvious is outstanding," I quipped, then added a quick, "Just kidding. We aren't mirror images of each other, in fact, we don't look anything alike, and we definitely have our own likes and dislikes. We really are two very separate beings mentally and emotionally. We just share my body. We actually have physical interaction, like hugs and high fives and stuff, and we have great conversations."

"Amazing. And I've never heard any form of communication between the two of you."

"I know. I'm not sure why that is or how she does it, but I do know she makes sure you don't ever hear us talking. She would never let that happen. What we share is just between the two of us."

"But she's always with you. Always part of you."

J mulled that concept over in his mind. And didn't that just add a fuckload more questions to the convo?

"J, she is always there – lingering in the background or up in my face, but she doesn't feel what I feel. When we make love, she goes to her room, so to speak, and gives us privacy, if that's what you're wondering about. And she didn't feel even one of the swats you just gave me. She did get an eyeful and could tell I was in pain, which had her going all anal and calling for help, but when I told her to just chill, she did. I do ultimately control her, whether she agrees with me or not."

"And I thought my gifts were extraordinary….." J shook his head.

"They are, Sweet Love. We both have supernatural blessings, as Toots would say. My gifts are just different in nature than yours, but not necessarily any more or less special. I believe that's the very reason we were destined to be together. We are each other's counterpart."

"I agree. We are perfectly suited for each other. Together we are a force to be taken seriously. And once we are truly mated, we will be very powerful."

"Power is not something I've ever be interested in. Yeah, I love having the gifts, but not to use for personal gain or anything like that. Helping other people is my bag. Solving crimes. I own that shit. Power? Doesn't really turn me on. But if combining our talents gets the job done faster and easier, I'm all over that."

"It is, isn't it? I mean, I am helping you in this investigation, am I not? Without my, what is that word you use? Vampireness? You might not have gotten on the trail so quickly. And you wouldn't know you were tracking a very powerful Ancient One."

"Absolutely. Your vampireness is coming in very handy. I owe you big time. We all do. Ellen will be more than grateful when we finally find her and get her away from that monster."

"Emmett isn't really a monster, actually. He's got his reasons for what he's done, I'm sure, and they're probably quite valid. At least in his mind, anyway. We can't judge him too harshly until we hear his side of the story."

"Talk about a one-eighty – what changed your whole mindset all of a sudden? When we started this thing, you were all hi-ho-silver and now you're like, 'well maybe he has his reasons.' What happened, J? Mood swing much?"

"I'm just saying it won't hurt to hear him out. Besides, it really doesn't matter what either of us thinks or wants, the council will have the ultimate ruling."

"The council? I don't think so. When we find them, he goes back to the states to stand trial. The crime was committed on US soil against a US citizen. Your council can just take a number and get in line."

J and I locked eyes, each waiting for the other one to give in.

Vampires obviously never need to blink.

"How would I explain not bringing him in or producing a body? I can't just let him walk. Not gonna happen."

"Our official story will be that we found Ellen, alone, unharmed, and her abductor had long since fled."

J smiled at his brilliant explanation. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"You forgot one small detail. What if Ellen isn't unharmed? And what if she won't go along with your little fabrication? Then what?"

I risked further punishment by smiling as smugly as I could, but damn it, he had to throw just a skosh of reality into the scenario.

"Do you really think you can take a vampire into custody? Any vampire, let alone a pure vampire? No sense getting ahead of ourselves, love. When we do catch up with them, we'll assess the situation and go from there. I'm sure I can persuade her to reinforce my version of what happened. Besides, I don't think she's in any danger really. He isn't that kind of man. In fact, he's probably very protective of her."

"Really? Protective? What? Like she's his new toy or something? I thought we were on the same team. My team. I'm the captain, J. If you're not going to do it my way, then it's not gonna work. You call the shots in the bedroom, not in the field."

This conversation was getting more irritating by the minute. And didn't that just put the kibosh on the whole evening?

"Cam, love, let's not dwell on this now, okay? I am your ally, your teammate. But you're up against more than just a stereotype fugitive. You're tracking a vampire – a pure, ancient vampire. You're going to need all the help and protection you can get."

J wrapped his arms around me and held me close as he kissed me. And didn't I just melt like butter on popcorn?

"There's a lot of comfort in knowing that in addition to my spiritual friends, I have you as my ally and protector, but you have to trust me on this. I told them about our lifestyle and defended you because I love you and I trust you. You have to believe in me, as well."

"I do believe in you. When you told your friends I was your protector, as much as any of them are, I was proud as a peacock. And when you reconfirmed to them and to me, and maybe even to yourself in a way, that you willingly choose to be my submissive and embrace this lifestyle, I thought I'd bust with pride. I believe in you and trust you, Cam. I believe in us."

"I meant it, you know. Every word. I didn't much like the ass whipping I just got, but maybe I did deserve a punishment of some sort. Maybe. But I'm still really confused about that."

"About what, love?"

"What I don't quite understand is why, even though it hurt physically, and it really hurt big time, J, just so you know, at the same time it felt so amazingly erotic. Why would something so painful be so arousing? How can that be? It doesn't even make sense. How twisted am I?"

"Pleasure and pain are opposites, yet they are each sort of half of the whole. They both release the same endorphins and can trigger the same result. Of course, if the recipient of pain isn't into the lifestyle, pain is simply that – pain. And it's unpleasant as hell. The fact that you are a submissive makes receiving some forms of pain a sexual experience. You received punishment for your actions earlier today, and now you feel happy to have paid the price for your error in judgment. You submit to my control, which includes discipline as I see fit. It's a part of how you please me."

The look on J's face was some serious I'm-a-member-of-the-alpha-male-fraternity shit. And didn't that just scream for me to commit another error in judgment?

"I would make a really sarcastic comment right about now, along the lines of 'it always comes back to everything being for your pleasure and your benefit,' but my ass is still burning from the last reminder to be the good little submissive, so this is me just giving it a zip and a smile."

"Cam, love, pleasing me should be your greatest desire. It's basically the same in a regular, or what we call, a vanilla relationship between any man and woman. Women generally like to please their men. And when you give pleasure to your Dom, you receive double benefits. You receive the satisfaction of knowing I am pleased, which in return gives you pleasure, and the additional benefit of me giving you physical, mental, and emotional pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

"Okay, then. I guess it's all good, as long as I get some sort of reward for my good behavior."

"You have no idea how exquisitely you will be rewarded, my dear. No idea, whatsoever. I will take you where you've never been and make you feel things you didn't even know existed."

"I took my punishment without much sniveling, and I've been incredibly sweet and cooperative since then…mostly," I pointed out, letting my voice fade out.

"Due to all the confusion with the tornado and war cries, I did forget a most important reward for enduring punishment like a good girl – aftercare. Shall I show you what that's all about?"

I tilted my head to the side, and gave J my best effort at a seductive glance and lets-go-fuck-our-brains-out wink. And wouldn't ya know it? Without any further ado, J swept me up in his arms, carried me to the bed, and proceeded to show me exactly how rewarding it could be.

Ellen stretched, yawned, and made a sort of purring noise as she opened her eyes. Emmett was lying on his side, watching her with amusement written clearly on his face.

"What?" she demanded, rolling onto her side to look at him eye to eye.

"You're very beautiful, especially in your sleep. I could watch you for hours. You smile, you know," he teased. "Were you dreaming of me?"

"Dreaming of us, and last night," she whispered, blushing a deep crimson.

"I love it when you do that. Your face turns a lovely shade of rose and your heartbeat races. It's quite intoxicating."

"It's involuntary, I assure you. Makes me feel like a silly school-girl. Self-confident women don't blush. They just say what they feel and to hell with what anyone thinks."

"Ellen, dearest, part of your charm is your innocence. I'm glad you're not a to-hell-with-what-you-think kinda woman. You're a sweet, caring lady. And I'd rather have a real, old fashioned, proper lady than just a snooty, self-indulged feminist any day. They're a dollar a dozen. You're one in a million."

"You're embarrassing me, Emmett. Please, don't put me on too high a pedestal. I don't want that long drop when I fall off. After the way I acted last night, I don't feel like much of a proper lady, but thank you, I'm quite flattered."

"My dear Ellen, you were fantastic last night. Part of being a proper lady is knowing when to smile and serve tea, and when to let your inner bad girl out to play. You've had far too many years of keeping her locked in her room. You have to admit, she's delightfully playful and deliciously adventurous."

"That she is." Ellen giggled and rolled her eyes. "She took me totally by surprise, but I loved every minute. I did things I've only ever dreamed of doing. You awakened feelings in me I didn't even know were there. It was nothing short of amazing."

"It was, wasn't it? Believe it or not, I'm not all that experienced myself. So we're actually learning together. But it does come naturally, I must say. Your body gets a mind of its own, and you just somehow know what to do. Or maybe it's you just do whatever you want to do."

"I'm not sure I believe you about not having much experience, but it did seem to just come naturally, alright. To me, that is. One thing I guess I should tell you, though: I don't think I can get pregnant. Sherman wanted children desperately, and we did try, but I could never conceive. He was tested and had a high sperm count, so we just assumed it was my inability and left it at that."

"And you shared that with me because…" Emmett's voice trailed off, waiting for Ellen to fill in the appropriate blanks.

"Because you removed yourself from inside me just before ejaculation."

Once again, she felt the heat as the blush spread across her face, prompting her to turn her head to avoid any eye contact.

"Oh. That. Right," Emmett said, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. "Force of habit, I guess. Sorry. Please, don't be offended or take it personally. It's not you, Ellen, it's something I have to do. For now, anyway. Someday I will explain it to you, but not right now, okay? Just believe that if I could really mark you as mine, I would. I really, truly wanted to. Just, I can't, yet. Okay?"

"Of course. I just wanted you to know that you can eliminate any worry about getting me pregnant. And you really don't owe me any explanations, Emmett. I'm sure your reasons are valid."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him, kissing her gently before shifting his body to allow her to rest her head on his shoulder. They laid there for a few moments, wrapped around one another, breathing in sync, enjoying the closeness and feelings that danced between them.

Emmett's thoughts were plagued by knowing he would have to answer for his actions. He had earned his reputation of being the defiant one: The pure Ancient that flipped off the council members, thumbed his nose at the rules, and did whatever he damn well pleased whenever it damn well pleased him to do it.

This was different though. Mad different.

This was huge.

There would be no kiss-my-ass-yo attitude to get out of this one. He was wicked fucked.

This lapse in judgment was in direct violation of the supreme rule of all rules. He hadn't technically broken the law, if you applied the exact interpretation. He hadn't really shared his seed with her. Not inside her, anyway. Leaving your load on the sheets wasn't actually sharing it with anyone. Was it?

_Tell that to the judge and see where it gets you, motherfucker_.

Ellen was lost in her own thoughts. She had never before felt so fulfilled. For the first time in her life, she felt like a real woman. Felt what it was to really give herself to someone. To have experienced a true body-shaking orgasm. What being with an uninhibited lover was all about. She finally knew what it was to be royally and thoroughly fucked.

She bit her lip and willed herself not to giggle. She had completely enjoyed each facet of those things. And more.

Oh yes, so much more.

If Emmett wanted to pull out at the last minute, so be it; as long as she could get him to the place that made him cum, what difference did it make? He had shoved her off the orgasmic cliff numerous times during the course of the evening, resulting in her own bodily fluids dripping, pouring, squirting, and oozing all over the linens. Why not his, as well?

"Know what?" she asked, breaking the silence with the rhetorical question.

"Well, I've met a few. Not sure if it's the same what you're talking about, though." His dimples flashed as he played along with her.

"The one I'm talking about is the 'I'm-ravenous-and-I-think-breakfast-sounds-wonderf ul' what. Is that one of the ones you're familiar with? If not, I'd be happy to introduce you."

At that, Emmett jumped out of bed, strolled bare-assed to the closet, and pulled a satin robe off its hanger. He turned and held it open, inviting her to wear it. She slid her arms through the too-long sleeves and tied the sash around her waist.

"It looks much better on you than it does on me," he complimented, eyeing her from head to toe and back again.

"I doubt that," she countered, as Emmett pulled on a pair of shorts and slipped a tank top over his head, accentuating his perfectly chiseled body.

"Shall I have it served here in my stateroom, or would you prefer to eat in the dining room or on the deck perhaps?"

"How about if I take a quick shower, get myself presentable, and meet you on the deck?"

"I'd say that sounds delightful. I'll have the chef prepare something special. Take your time. He won't serve until I tell him to. Deal?"

"Deal."

After sharing a kiss and a hug, Ellen headed to her room, humming happily to herself.

Emmett reached for the intercom to alert the chef of a change in the plans for breakfast. He stared at his reflection in the mirror next to the phone caddy. He thought about Ellen: about how he had carefully planned her abduction, skillfully won her confidence, and selfishly lured her into his bed. The man staring back at him seemed to leer at him, smirking.

Without thinking, he doubled up his fist and let fly. The fucker in the mirror shattered into a thousand little pieces. He quickly ran his tongue across the back of his hand, sealing up the wounds left by the shrouds of glass.

"You've lost your mind, pal," he told himself audibly. "You've completely gone insane. And you have just caught your dick and balls in the fucking ringer."


End file.
